


The Shadow Of A Crimson Moon

by UberVenkman



Series: Anna DeWitt, Private Investigator [1]
Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Film Noir, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7747285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UberVenkman/pseuds/UberVenkman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Anna DeWitt takes cases with a simple expectation: the bad guy is dealt with, the investigator gets paid. The murder of Brigid Tenenbaum, one of the top scientists in the city of Ascension, seems to be another one of these cases. But as DeWitt weaves her way further and further into the mystery, she uncovers a larger conspiracy involving strange experiments, an abandoned colony on the Moon, and a mysterious substance code-named "ADAM."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rewind

**Author's Note:**

> This is not an A/U.

**Date: ??? Time: ???  
Location: ???**

The room is nothing more than a badly-lit tomb. Concrete walls with no windows encapsulate its contents. At the center is a rusty metal table, complimented with two chairs sitting opposite each other. A single light hangs from the ceiling, its glow reflecting brightly off the metal surface of the table.

The room is not empty. Someone is in this room, standing just beyond the light. She stands there silently, staring at the table, her eyes squinted slightly.

She is holding something in her hands. She clutches it, as though it were the most valuable object in the world. It is impossible to make out what it is.

She steps toward the table and stares at its surface for only a moment longer. Finally, she slams the object right at the center.

It is a tape recorder.

She reaches forward and stretches out a single finger. Her nails are a bright red color, freshly done. She lowers the finger and pushes down on the rewind button. The cassette in the deck whirs as it turns back, before finally making a heavy noise, indicating it has reached the end of available tape. The woman lifts her finger up, stopping the tape from rewinding.

She moves her hand slightly to the left, positioning her finger directly above the play button. A joint moves: she is about to play this recording. But she hesitates. Does she really want to hear what is on the tape?

Her moment of indecision gives way to impulse as she firmly presses her finger down on the button.

For a moment, there is no sound save for the tape playing.

She moves her hand to the right, positioning her finger directly above the stop button. A joint moves: she is about to stop this recording. But she hesitates.

Before she can even consider her next action, a voice emerges from the tape. She immediately lowers her hand. There is no turning back now.

* * *

_Hello again. Did you miss me?_

_We all know the story: there is always a man, there is always a city, and there is always a hero that battles the forces of oppression. Rapture, Columbia…_

_Well, you know how it was said: so many doors. So perhaps there’s another city out there._

_We start with a location. Rapture was at the bottom of the ocean. Columbia was in the clouds. What’s one location this story has not gone to?_

_No, we are not setting this on the ground. If you want a mysterious city that’s on the ground, I seriously suggest you look for City 17._

_Let’s try that again. What’s one location this story has not gone to?_

_We go now to the city of Ascension. The concept was first proposed in 2338 by the Board of Improvement, made up of the following people: Zachary Hale Comstock, Sofia Lamb, Andrew Ryan, Jeremiah Fink, and Frank Fontaine._

_It’s like they say: there are constants and there are variables._

_What sets Ascension apart from Rapture and Columbia? Well, for one thing, it did not collapse into a leaderless society doomed to chaos for all eternity. Far from it, in fact. It was considered a model city, and many more exactly like it were created in the years to come. It was based on the capitalist model of many American cities on early 21 st Century Earth. Due to improvements in standard of living, as well as affordable housing and employment programs, poverty as you may know it does not exist. A large gap between the rich and the poor, however, does, as well as a surprising crime rate. That is a result of general dissatisfaction among the lower class._

_Oh, and it’s also in space._

_Ascension was completed in 2344, after five years of construction. It maintains orbit around the moon, coming closest at 18,000 miles. It is an environment of its own: financial district, industrial district, theater district, even a museum district. The oxygen is replenished through the various carbon scrubber facilities scattered around the city. Plants are grown hydroponically, and animals are raised in their own sections of the city._

_Ascension could easily have turned out as a Marxist utopia. But sadly, the concept of supply and demand, nay, the very idea of being more powerful than another, is what has kept it alive._

* * *

The woman on the recording hesitates. She is unsure how to continue.

The woman listening to the recording, however, is completely sure of how to continue. She raises a pistol to her head, presses it against her right temple, and pulls down the hammer. Her index finger curls around the trigger.

But then she hesitates.

The woman on the recording continues, regardless of the other woman’s actions.

_Well, I guess we need to start at the beginning. It’s a couple of years down the line for Ascension, I reckon around 2369…_

* * *

**Saturday, November 29, 2369, 7:23 PM  
The Blue Ribbon Restaurant, Midtown Ascension**

Andrew Ryan was late for dinner.

The blonde, pale woman in the green dress sat at the booth, staring at the third vodka martini she had ordered. She wondered if she would be better off eating the olives and saving the martini for whenever the famed leader would arrive.

But when would he arrive? He was always blowing her off, saying he had other business to attend. “It’s just a little job,” he would tell her. “It will only take an hour.” And one hour easily turned into two, then three, until finally he would notify her he was not coming.

The mere thought forced the woman to down her drink, olives and all.

The Blue Ribbon, one of the city’s finest establishments, usually sported huge crowds and noisy patrons, especially during the holiday season. Tonight, however, seemed to be a quieter one. Only half of the 48 tables had patrons at them.

It was clear the woman was not the only customer waiting for someone. Across the floor in another booth sat a dark-skinned woman in a very crisp-looking suit. She was nervously tapping her foot on the carpet floor and looking at her watch. It was obvious she was waiting for someone.

The woman’s surreptitious observation of the other patron was interrupted by the arrival of her waiter, a young man named Dale who was all too familiar with this particular customer.

“Would you like another drink, Ms. McClintock?” he asked her. “Or perhaps an appetizer?”

Diane McClintock looked at the empty glass. It didn’t matter how much vodka she put into her: the frustration at being blown off by Andrew Ryan would leave her sober for weeks.

“I think I’ll just order,” she replied dully. “The lobster canapé and the seared scallops.”

The waiter nodded. She ordered the same thing every time. “Right away. Would you also like to order for your plus one?”

The woman in the other booth abruptly slammed her fist against the table, startling Dale and Diane. With a sigh, she pushed herself out of the booth and promptly walked out of the restaurant.

The waiter shrugged. “These reporter-types…always so jumpy. Are you ordering for your plus one, Ms. McClintock?”

Diane looked at the empty spot next to her. “No, it’ll be fine. I think it’s just me for tonight.”

The waiter gave a sympathetic sigh. “Better luck next time, I suppose.”

Diane ignored him. “I’m goin’ out for a smoke.”

“Alright, but hurry back, your appetizer will be ready soon.”

Andrew Ryan’s abandoned girlfriend pulled a small cigarette from her purse. “It’ll be a quick one.” She pushed herself out of the booth and rushed toward the door.

The waiter shook his head as he headed to the counter and inputted Ms. McClintock’s order. It was the same old story: Diane McClintock would wait for her date, one of the most powerful people in the entire city of Ascension, eventually lose faith, and would eat her dinner by herself. At first it was sad, but now it was routine.

“Ryan’s skipping out on her again, huh?” a line cook (a stout woman named Laura who sported an obviously mechanical arm) observed. “The silliest girl in Ascension, waiting for the date who’d rather have a two-minute romp than a full date.”

“You know it,” Dale replied. “I need one order of lobster canapés and the scallops.”

“Coming right up.” Laura started to move, but she thought of something that gave her pause. “Hey, ten bucks he shows up tonight in the next half an hour.”

“You’re gambling again. You know what Mr. Cohen says about gambling in his restaurants.”

“Ten bucks. Take it or leave it.”

Dale laughed. “You’re on.”

* * *

The neon sign for the Blue Ribbon restaurant flickered in the dark night, casting an eerie glow on the street.

Below it stood Diane McClintock, who was putting on her gloves in a bid to warm up her fingers.

She held up her cigarette. “Light, please.”

There was a small buzzing sound, and a small contraption floated down from above. It spun around in the air a few times before positioning itself directly under Diane McClintock’s cigarette. With a slight hiss, a flame appeared on top of the robot, lighting the tobacco-filled paper. Its job done, the contraption floated away into the streets.

Diane started to breathe in the smoke, but was interrupted by a loud tapping noise coming from the alleyway next to the restaurant, as though someone was running. Curious, she put down her cigarette and slowly approached the corner.

From out of the darkness stumbled the woman from the other booth. She looked horrified.

“Is something wrong?” Diane asked.

The woman merely stared at the bystander, still in horror. There was something about her that looked familiar.

“Hey!” Diane exclaimed, snapping her finger. “You’re that journalist for _The Ascension Reporter_! Fitzroy…Daisy Fitzroy, right?”

The woman’s eyes widened, which considering how wide they were before was quite a feat.

That was when Diane realized something: Daisy Fitzroy’s hands were caked with red.

“What…” Diane looked up at the reporter. “What did you do?”

Fitzroy bit her lip. “I swear to god, it wasn’t me!”

Diane was taken aback. “What wasn’t you?”

Fitzroy waited a moment longer, as though she wanted to give more explanation. But pure fear overtook her, and she ran off down the street, away from the restaurant.

Diane had a sudden fear of whatever Fitzroy saw in that alleyway. She wondered if it would be better for her to just go back into the restaurant and pretend she saw nothing.

But her curiosity got the better of her. With a deep breath, she peered around the corner into the alleyway.

One light, stationed above the fire exit to the Blue Ribbon, illuminated the scene. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground was what Diane at first thought was a massive pile of purple clothing. But what set it apart from the mess she and Ryan left after their late night romps was the pool of blood surrounding it.

Diane felt a demand to step closer, somehow knowing what she was about to find, yet still hoping it was something else.

It did not take very long for her to realize it had hair, a dark almond color with streaks of grey running through it. It was laid out across the ground in a haphazard design.

Diane McClintock was staring directly at a dead body.

Her gut reaction was to scream, which she did without hesitation. But her curiosity was not satisfied—she needed to know more.

Carefully, she stepped around the pool of blood and knelt down by the head of the corpse. Taking a deep breath, she reached out her hand and gently lifted the body up by the hair.

It was a woman. She looked to be in her late 40s or early 50s. Her mouth was permanently fixed in a state of shock, her eyes frozen wide, her pupils dilated: she had been dead for quite some time now. Diane’s gaze fixed on the long slash mark across the woman’s neck, no doubt the cause of death.

But this was not why she found the death so horrifying. No, no, she knew this woman. She had seen her at Ryan’s elaborate parties. She had seen her walking out of city hall after huge meetings while Diane herself waited for her boyfriend to come out.

Ms. McClintock’s thoughts were interrupted by some loud footsteps coming from outside the alleyway. She looked up in time to see two figures emerge from around the building corner.

“Diane, there you are!” one of them shouted. She realized to her shock it was Andrew Ryan. “The waiter said you would only be a moment.”

“He showed up,” Dale growled. “Now I owe one of the line cooks ten…” he trailed off as he realized what was on the ground. “What the hell?!”

Ryan looked down at the crumpled heap, then at his partner. “What…what is th—“

Diane realized to her horror she was still holding up the corpse’s head. She quickly dropped it down. “I—I had to see who it was…”

The Ascension co-founder quickly ran over to his date and pulled her up from the ground. “Diane, move away from the body! Dale!”

“Right away, Mr. Ryan!” The waiter pulled out a small phone and began pressing several buttons.

Ryan gripped Diane’s shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“There’s…so much blood,” she said quietly.

Dale was now on the phone. “Operator? We’ve got a body lying in the alleyway next to the Blue Ribbon.”

“I know her.”

The waiter joined Ryan in his puzzled expression. “What?”

Diane’s eyes widened as she made eye-contact with her date for the first time. “Ryan…that’s Brigid Tenenbaum!”

He stared at her, as if what she just said was a joke. Then, a slow look of horror crept across his face. Nervously, he stepped towards the body and bent down to look directly at the face, now exposed to his view from Ms. McClintock’s investigation.

Brigid Tenenbaum, one of Ascension’s finest scientists, noted philanthropist, and the well-known humanitarian, was lying sprawled out on the ground in a dark alleyway with her neck slashed.


	2. The Job

**Tuesday, December 16, 2369, 3:04 AM  
DeWitt Investigations, Calypso Plaza, Bradley Heights**

The blue light from the panel casts a dim glow on the dark office. What little it can show is, to say the least, not impressive: empty beer bottles; stacks of paper sitting haphazardly on various surfaces; the black letters spelling out “DeWitt Investigations” on the door; coffee cups long sipped dry, sitting abandoned where they have been left; and, perhaps most importantly, a framed photo.

This photo shows a father, probably in his late-30s, and a daughter, no older than 19. The father sports a brown fedora and an overcoat, his daughter dressed in a blue evening gown. They are smiling, not to mention a bit red-faced. Judging from their attire, they are at a club, dancing.

To the average observer, it is simply an image of a family having a good time. But to the owner it serves as a grim reminder of the car accident that killed the father only a few days later, forcing the daughter to drop out of college and take over the business. Since then, it has been restless nights, slow-business days, and one-too-many cups of coffee.

In some ways, the blue light from the panel makes the photograph look exactly as it is: a happy memory forever tainted by tragedy.

There is one thing in the room the blue light neglects to illuminate: the dark figure sitting on the couch, refusing to do anything more than breathe.

A light comes on outside the door. The dark figure looks over at the new source of light. Apparently the proprietor is home.

* * *

The panel beeped an odd tune, and the door slid open. In the doorway stood the silhouette of a woman, aged 23, clad in a brown fedora and an overcoat. The same one her father wore in their last picture together.

The panel hummed. _“Good morning, Ms. DeWitt,”_ it said in a friendly manner. _“I trust you had a pleasant night out.”_

Detective Anna DeWitt snorted. “Shut the fuck up, Alec.”

_“I will take that as a no.”_

“And it’s not even morning. It’s 3 AM.”

_“Do you not consider the ante meridium times ‘morning’?”_

“3 AM is not morning in my book. It is a very late night that is going to kick you in the balls if you have an early start.”

_“I reckon some people would consider a ‘kick in the balls’ an early start in itself.”_

“Don’t patronize me.”

_“Of course. Well then, do you wish to remain standing in the doorway, or are you going to actually come into the office?”_

DeWitt blinked a few times. “Fine.” She took a few steps into the office. The door slid shut behind her, and the office plunged into the darkness once more.

There was a long pause.

“Alec, turn on the lamp at my desk.”

The small desk lamp turned on, revealing to a much greater extent the mess the detective had accumulated. There were some brown paper bags, a Hostess Twinkie, and an ashtray, which had not been used in over three years. Incidentally, the Hostess Twinkie had been bought long before then.

The person on the couch couldn’t help but notice the light failed to illuminate the sitting area.

Anna sat down in her chair. It wobbled slightly, a little worn from its use over the years. She removed her hat, gently placing it next to her. With a long sigh, she laid her head down on the desk.

She maintained this position for a few seconds.

 _“Would you like me to prepare the REM pod?”_ Alec asked. _“Or perhaps another cup of coffee? Lord knows you go through ten cups a day…”_

“Alec.” The woman sat up. “You are an example of one of the greatest inventions of the 23rd Century: artificial intelligence. You’ve made many jobs in the universe obsolete: you can do taxes, you can run diagnostics—hell, you can pour coffee. You are, for all intents and purposes, a masterpiece.”

_“Why, thank you.”_

“I’m not finished. You’re also wildly incapable of simple skills. You notice all of the wrong things, you ignore the stuff that’s right in front of you, and you have a terrible grasp on deduction.”

The computer hesitated. _“Why do you say that?”_

Anna raised her pistol and aimed it into the shadows. “Because somehow, despite your genius, you failed to notice that there’s a breather sitting on my couch.”

For a moment, there was silence.

_“Ah. So there is. Strange, I didn’t notice her come in.”_

Anna stood up. “That doesn’t surprise me. Alec, turn on the floor lamp.”

An orange glow finally revealed the woman on the couch. She was clad in a black evening gown, her ginger hair held up by a green set of hair sticks, made up as though she had just come from a grand ball. She stared at Anna, silently judging her.

“Nice outfit, Mata Hari,” Anna cracked. “But didn’t you hear the AI? It’s morning.”

_“Oh sure, now you agree with m—“_

“Shut up, Alec.”

The woman on the couch did not respond. She just jutted out her lower lip and quietly glanced at the panel where Alec’s voice was being projected.

The silence was making Anna restless. “Stand up,” she ordered.

The woman did as she was told, but still refrained from speaking.

Anna stepped towards the intruder. “How’d you get in here?”

The woman smiled. When she spoke, she had a clear, distinct British accent that was surprisingly pleasant to the ear. “Why do you ask ‘how,’ when the delicious question is ‘why?’”

The detective was taken aback. “I…what?”

_“Shall I notify law enforcement, Ms. DeWitt?”_

No answer. The pistol quivered in its owner’s hands.

_“Ms. DeWitt?”_

“Not yet, Alec. I want to hear what this lady has to say.” She motioned to the chair sitting opposite her desk. “Sit down. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The woman pulled the chair out. It scratched across the panel floor, making a rather awful noise.

DeWitt sat herself down in her own chair, keeping her gun trained on the intruder. “Let’s start with formalities,” she said. “Who are you?”

The woman smirked. “Call me a friend, Detective DeWitt.”

“In my line of work, I don’t have very many friends. What makes you so special?”

“Me? Well, as a human, nothing. I am, to you, completely unremarkable.”

“That so? Well, let me lay out the cards for you, lady. You’re dressed in a black evening gown, high heels, and your hair looks like it was done by some hackjob hairdresser. Definitely not the outfit for a cat burglar, yet you’ve managed to sneak past a constantly on-guard security system in the dead of night without being noticed—at all—and parked yourself on that couch over there. So I don’t know about you, but I don’t think you’re the unremarkable type.”

The woman did not seem the least bit intimidated. The smirk that had stayed on her face since the moment Anna saw her seemed to grow, as if she were aware of some impending doom. It made DeWitt quiver with unease.

Finally, she reached into her hair and pulled out the two sticks. Yet to Anna’s bewilderment, the hair remained in the exact position it had before.

“If you don’t mind, having a gun pointed directly at my face does not inspire confidence,” the woman commented, looking up.

DeWitt was quiet. Then, perhaps as a method of further intimidation, she pressed her thumb down on the hammer of the gun.

The woman, unfazed by this, put the two hairsticks in one hand and closed her fist for a moment. Then, unfolding her hand once more, she jerked her wrist slightly. One hairstick rolled out, forming between the two a projected image. The woman lifted up the newly-created device and began tapping on the screen.

“Where’d you get that?” Anna asked.

The woman looked up. “Best Buy.” She handed the device to the detective, revealing it was open to a newspaper article. “I’m sure you’ve heard this story.”

* * *

**TENENBAUM DEATH DECLARED A SUICIDE  
By Ulrich Broder**

_The recent death of famed Ascension scientist Brigid Tenenbaum rocked the entire Ascension community on its heels. The idea that someone would want Dr. Tenenbaum dead was one few could truly believe: besides her scientific contributions, she was also a noted philanthropist, managing the Ascension Orphanage and Daycare Center. Over 900,000 of Ascension’s children have found homes through the AODC._

_Her contributions in this regard made her much loved among the Ascension community. Thus, it was especially hard to believe Dr. Tenenbaum would take her own life._

_“Based on the coroner’s report,” Chief of Police Ken Sullivan said in his written statement. “…and confirmation from her coworkers, Dr. Tenenbaum’s emotional state was on a downward spiral for the past several months. It’s safe to assume the only answer she saw was her own death. A 8-inch straight-edge razor was found at—‘”_

* * *

Anna immediately dropped the tablet on her desk. “Don’t show me that crap.”

“Crap?” the woman chuckled as she retrieved it. “Do you mean to say you don’t care the least about the one and only Dr. Brigid Tenenbaum?”

There was a long pause. The two women stared at each other, waiting for the other to react.

Finally, DeWitt reached for her pencil holder and picked out a shiny black pen. She turned it over and hit the top of the pen against her desk. It made a brief _click_ sound and the nib popped out. Another click, and it retracted. A further, more forced click, and the nib ejected from the pen into the air, landing somewhere in the darkness.

But the woman did not even flinch.

Anna put the empty pen down. “Are you asking me to investigate why Brigid Tenenbaum killed herself?”

“I don’t know, am I?” the woman asked.

Classic diversionary tactic. She’d seen it hundreds of times.

Anna moved the pistol away from the woman and fired a single shot at the wall.

Still, the woman did not flinch.

“You think she was murdered.”

The silence was the only answer she needed.

“You’re not with the police. Sure, they might want a private investigator taking a case if they think something sinister is at work and need someone with a lower profile. But I’m the last person they’d want doing that kind of thing. Besides, I know Sullivan—he wouldn’t want me investigating this.”

“Is that so? Why?”

“He feels an obligation to ‘protect’ me. He was old friends with my father.”

“Yes, the late Booker DeWitt.” The woman nodded to the framed picture on the desk. “Considered one of Ascension’s greatest detectives. I wonder now—who do you speak for? Him or you?”

Anna picked up the picture and stared directly at her father’s image. She gently wiped at the glass with her thumb.

She looked up. “What if I say no?”

“That’s up to you, I suppose. But knowing your history with Tenenbaum’s efforts, I find it doubtful you would.”

The detective’s eyes wandered back to the article. _Over 900,000 of Ascension’s children have found homes through the AODC._

“I don’t care what my connection to the good doctor’s efforts is,” she shrugged. “I still need payment.”

The woman was silent for a moment. She made two distinct blinks.

 _“Ms. DeWitt, your bank account appears to have been compromised,”_ Alec toned.

The detective looked up. “What?”

_“Attempting to circumvent data nodules...”_

“Well, hurry up, I don’t want any highway robbe—“ she looked at the woman. “Are you doing this?”

“Give it a moment.”

 _“Madam…the hacker is transferring money_ into _your account. I’m pulling up the information on your data oculus.”_

DeWitt reached into her desk and pulled up her data oculus, a small device that covered her right eye like a monocle. She placed it on and watched in shock as her bank account increased in numbers, from mere five figures to six figures…

“Your payment, should you accept this case, equals 800,000 dollars cash.”

The detective watched the numbers slowing down, finally stopping at $472,345. “That’s only half, where’s the rest?” she asked.

“You will receive the rest at the conclusion of your investigation,” the woman replied. “So, do you accept the case?”

Anna took off her data oculus. “My dad told me to always be suspicious of people with cryptic talk and big bucks.” She tapped at Booker DeWitt’s face in the picture. “But like you said: I don’t speak for him.”

The woman frowned for the first time in the conversation. “Odd statement coming from you.” She reached directly into her dress.

The detective was startled. “Pardon?”

But the woman ignored her. “Your investigation starts at the Club Kashmir in the Jazz District. Go to the bar and ask for Brenda. When she shows up, tell her you would like to speak to the Vox.” She pulled her hand out of her dress to reveal a white card. “My involvement in this case will be minimal. Nonetheless, I am available to provide you with…resources.” She held out the card between her index and her middle finger. “Tips, if you will.”

The detective inspected the card.

**Sadie Cuternoll  
8212007**

She pocketed the card. “How will I know when to contact you exactly?”

“You’ll know—” Sadie said, standing up from her chair. “—when you see me again.” She pushed her seat away and turned towards the door.

“One more thing.”

Ms. Cuternoll turned around. “Yes, Ms. DeWitt?”

The detective purposely let her hand hover over the pistol, now lying on her desk. “Who the hell _are_ you?”

Sadie snickered as she approached the door. “The answer is much closer than you think.”

“You know,” Anna commented. “This happened over two weeks ago. If this was really a murder, killer could’ve easily skipped town.”

The response was thrown over Ms. Cuternoll’s shoulder. “How far could she have gotten? It’s a city in space.”

And with that she stepped out of the office, letting the door close behind her.

Anna sat alone in the office, silently considering what had just happened.

* * *

Her moment of peace was interrupted by an obnoxiously loud piece of music. “ ** _We’ll meet again/Don’t know where/Don’t know when…”_**

The detective’s head jerked up to the ceiling in frustration. “ALEC!”

_“So sorry, Ms. DeWitt. It seems she’s also taken control of your sound system.”_

The music continued for a few more lines before stopping as abruptly as it started.

_“She makes quite an impression, don’t you think?”_

Anna looked at the woman’s card once more. “The Vox…Latin word, meaning voice.”

_“Also the name of a popular liberal news blog founded in the 21 st Century.”_

The detective picked up the data oculus and placed it gently over her right eye. “Cuffs,” she muttered. Then, louder, “Cuffs.”

A tray slid right out of her desk, revealing a pair of grey arm cuffs. DeWitt slid them over her wrists, wiggling her fingers a few times.

“Alec, get the speeder,” she said with a satisfied smile. “It’s time for a night out.”

_“It’s 3 AM.”_

“I don’t care.”


	3. Nothing But Fitzroy

**Tuesday, December 16, 2369, 3:33 AM  
Club Kashmir, Pauper’s District**

The street is nearly deserted. Discarded bottles and wrappers are swept up by sanitation bots, who are very clearly not happy about the littering habits of humans.

The only person to be seen for quite some distance is a lonely bouncer, standing beneath the bright marquee.

Above the marquee are the red words “Club Kashmir.” The marquee sign itself reads: “Performing tonight: Grace Holloway and the Infidels.”

The door opens. A gust of jazz music and the distinct smell of smoke and booze trickles out. The bouncer shifts his gaze to look at the man in the green coat who is walking out. The man in the green coat takes a moment to breathe in the outside air.

He turns to the bouncer. “Have a good night,” he says.

The bouncer looks at his watch. “It’s 3:33 AM. That’s not night, it’s morning.”

The man in the green coat, taken aback, departs down the street, humming the same jazz tune coming from inside the club.

The bouncer returns to his quiet vigil, sometimes scratching his face whenever he feels an itch come on.

He hears the distant hum of a speeder. He looks at his watch. Few people ever enter the Club Kashmir at this hour. Perhaps it’s just someone driving by.

The car in question floats down the road. To the bouncer’s surprise, it slows down, coming to a rest right in front of the club.

* * *

Anna looked out at the entrance. “The Club Kashmir,” she muttered. “Home to red curtains and jazzy music. Not unlike a David Lynch film.” She turned to the dashboard. “Alright, Alec, what were you able to pull up on this ‘Brenda’?”

A single image popped up on the dashboard screen: a woman in her early-40s. _“Brenda Stephanson. Proprietor of the Club Kashmir. Inherited building from her mother, former owner and founder Miriam Stephanson. One of the few privately-owned business in Ascension where smoking is permitted.”_

“Yuck.”

_“Would you like a gas mask, detective?”_

“Don’t bother. What else do you have about her?”

_“Uh…dating the bouncer ‘Charlie’…no last name given for him…Well-known for telling a good joke or two when working at the bar. Ask her about her pierogis.”_

“I’ll do that on top of finding out about this ‘Vox.’” She put on her data oculus. “Alright, Alec, hop on in.”

_“Transferring into oculus…transfer complete.”_

With a nod, Anna pushed open the speeder door and stepped out into the street. She looked up at the marquee. _Grace Holloway…_

“Huh. I remember her. She did a concert at Ascension U my sophomore year.” Her eyes wandered down until they made eye contact with the very confused looking bouncer. “I guess that’s my way in.” She closed the door to the speeder and casually walked towards the front door.

The bouncer held out a hand, blocking the DeWitt’s path. “Hang on a second,” he said accusingly.

“What?” she replied innocently. “Are you closed?”

“Well…no, not exactly.”

Anna shrugged. “Then I suppose I can go through.” She took a step forward, but the bouncer’s arm blocked her once more.

“Do you know what time it is?” the bouncer asked.

Anna focused on the small clock on her data oculus. “3:34 AM.”

“Seems like an awfully strange time for someone to come for a drink and a listen.”

Words appeared on the screen of the data oculus: _Late night munchies._

“Well,” Anna said, taking the cue. “You know, sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night feeling hungry, perhaps lonely for company. I heard Brenda’s good for a chat and a pierogi.”

The bouncer smiled upon hearing the name “Brenda.” “She certainly is,” he said. He lowered his hand. “Eh, I guess you can go through. Have a good time.”

Anna gave him a polite nod, tipped her fedora, and pushed her way through the door and into the Club Kashmir.

* * *

The first thing she noticed about the Club Kashmir was the abundance of red curtains.

They surrounded the room on three sides, the only uncovered side being the wall where the front door was. The audience sat at small round tables scattered inside of a large pit, which took up three-quarters of the main room. Waiters in white suits scurried around the floor, serving drinks, taking orders, and lighting cigarettes.

At the far end of the club was a small stage, where the band performed. At center stage was Grace Holloway herself, singing Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable.” Holloway had a smooth yet sharp singing voice that forced the detective to spend a full minute listening to her.

_“…That’s why, darling, it’s incredible/That someone so unforgettable/Thinks that I am/Unforgettable, too.”_

The audience politely clapped with appreciation.

Alec buzzed. _“Look out at three o’clock, detective: our informant just stepped into the bar.”_

Anna turned her head. Sure enough, there stood Brenda Stephanson, in the midst of writing down an order a waiter had handed her. She reached below the bar counter and pulled out a cocktail shaker. The detective watched as she pulled out three bottles, poured various amounts into the shaker, threw in a strawberry and some basil leaves, added a dab of some sort of syrup, and began shaking up the new mix.

“Very meticulous,” Anna muttered. She walked on over just as Brenda was pouring the mix into a glass full of ice.

Brenda looked up. “Haven’t seen you here before,” she commented as she added a strawberry garnish to the drink.

Alec began writing on the data oculus: _Strike up a rapport. Don’t go all in with the Vox question yet._

“Yeah,” the detective shrugged. “Looking for a good place to go to late at night. Heard the owner makes good pierogis.”

“She does,” Brenda replied. “And I should know: I’m the owner.” She snapped her finger towards a waiter, who came rushing over. “Pierre! Make sure Samantha Spade over here gets some of my pierogis.”

“Right away!” Pierre replied before rushing off.

Anna looked at Brenda, an eyebrow raised. “Samantha Spade?”

“ _The Maltese Falcon_ was my favorite book when I was little,” Brenda replied. “Pierogis will take a minute or two. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?”

“Straight up scotch on the rocks.”

Brenda looked up and down at the detective’s slender figure. “Well…alright. Didn’t expect that coming from someone like you.” She pulled out a bottle and a glass and began preparing the drink.

“My dad was a heavy drinker,” Anna shrugged. “I guess I picked up on his tolerance for alcohol.”

“Did he drink anything other than scotch?”

“Well, he had a thing for Long Island iced teas.”

Brenda shrugged as she pushed the scotch forward. “Don’t we all?”

Anna picked up the glass and casually took a sip, shifting her body to face the stage, where Grace Holloway began to sing “Minnie the Moocher.”

“Great voice, huh?” Brenda muttered. “Three night performance, then she goes back to the Limbo Room. If you tried to come in five hours ago, you would’ve been lined up all the way to city hall.”

“Well, you can’t give all the credit to her: you’ve got a nice atmosphere going on here,” the detective replied. “Very David Lynch, actually.”

“We try.” The waiter returned with a plate, on which lay five steaming pierogis. “Thank you, Pierre. Well, food’s on me, lady, since you’re a first-timer.”

“Thanks.” The detective picked up her fork, speared one of the pierogis, and took a cautious bite. She nodded with approval. “Nice. Family recipe?”

Brenda laughed. “I wish. My mom couldn’t cook for the life of her, so I came up with this recipe myself.” She eyed the plate. “Mind if I have one?”

“Help yourself.”

She picked up a single, hot pierogi. “So, Samantha Spade, what brings you to my humble abode?” She placed it in her mouth.

The data oculus beeped. _Showtime_ , Alec wrote.

“Well, I’m looking for someone called the Vox,” Anna explained, taking a sip from her scotch.

Brenda did not chew her pierogi. She just stared at the detective, her face an expression foreign to DeWitt. Was it disapproval?

Finally, the bartender swallowed the steaming pierogi whole. She stared at the detective, apparently now looking for any reaction.

Anna remained stone-faced. She wasn’t going to give anything away.

Finally, Brenda spoke: “See that exit sign over there? That’s the door to the alleyway. Head out there, I’ll follow you and take you to see the Vox.”

Anna looked over at the door, then back at the plate of pierogis sitting before her: three left.

“Fair enough,” she shrugged. She downed the rest of her scotch before picking up her plate. “I’m taking the pierogis with me, though.”

Brenda eyed the detective. “Go ahead. But leave the fork.”

Alec’s reaction was marked by two simple words on the data oculus screen: _Uh oh._

Anna walked guardedly towards the door. But before leaving, she turned around to look at the bartender, who was dialing a number on a phone.

“Alec, lip-read.”

_“Yes, Ms. DeWitt: ‘Charlie? Charlie, where’ve you gone?! Jeez, listen to your phone when I beep you! I need you to come round the back. Looks like the Vox’s fears were correct.’”_

* * *

Anna pushed herself out the door and into the alleyway. The immediate atmosphere change was clear. No music, no comfy atmosphere. Plenty of cigarette smoke and alcohol, likely from the discarded bottles and butts in the garbage can.

“Got any ideas on the next move, Alec?”

_“Well, you seem to be eating those pierogis with haste, so I can deduce that you do not actually want my ideas.”_

Anna ate the second-to-last pierogi. “Clever boy.”

She heard the door open behind her. Her mind briefly considered the handgun hidden below the folds of her overcoat. But that would be saved for later.

“Well,” the detective shrugged, picking up the last pierogi with her fingers. “Where’s the Vox?”

“Depends,” Brenda replied. “Why are you here again?”

“I was sent here.”

“Yeah? By who?”

“By whom.”

“What?”

“It’s taking an objective case, it’s ‘by whom.’”

“Shut up and answer my question.”

“I would if I had a solid answer to give you.”

“Fine then. Tell me how you know I know about the Vox.”

“Someone told me Brenda at the Club Kashmir would lead me to the Vox.”

“I reckon I can. But, truthfully, you meeting the Vox is not going to be easy.”

The detective heard a faint click. She gripped the plate in her hands.

Anna DeWitt was no fool. Every waking moment of her life was spent figuring out how to get out of a sticky situation should one come her way. Part of her felt sorry for wasting such a nice-looking plate. But then again, another part of her did not.

“I don’t doubt it,” she said.

She whirled around, just in time to see Brenda beginning to lift up a pistol with her left hand.

_Huh. Left-handed bartender._

Without skipping a beat, she flung the plate like a Frisbee straight at the bartender. It slammed right into her wrist, startling the woman and causing her to fire off a shot that barely missed the detective’s head and disappeared into the darkness, where a loud yelp was heard.

“CHARLIE!” Brenda screamed.

The bouncer from the front of the club stumbled out of the shadows, clutching his stomach. “You shot me, you whore!” he growled with pain.

Brenda laughed as she clutched at her hand, still sore from the injury. “If I’m a whore, that makes you the client! Help me finish this chick off!”

Alec hummed loudly. The data oculus began highlighting various parts of the bouncer.

_Right-handed. Recently had knee-surgery. Prefers his hands to guns._

A circle appeared around Charlie’s waste. _Taser?_ Alec wrote on the oculus.

“Good plan,” DeWitt replied. She raised her right arm and pulled up her sleeve, revealing her cuffs. With a slight beeping sound that curiously resembled the theme song for _Doogie Howser, MD_ , something small and black shot out and landed right on Charlie’s knee. After a brief pause, he bolted upright, chattered his teeth, and then hit the ground.

Anna was prepared to revel in this sight, but was interrupted by the impact of a trash lid to the back of her head. Startled, she tumbled sideways, her hat and oculus flying off and into the shadows.

She grasped at the wall, trying to regain her focus. It had barely even come back as the blunt of Brenda’s fist launched itself straight into her jaw. She fell backwards onto the ground.

Without the data oculus and Alec’s helpful advice (he seemed to only be helpful in brawls), the detective could only rely on her instincts. She could make out in her daze Brenda standing directly above her, raising the gun once more.

It was worth noticing that Brenda was using her right hand, which was very clearly not her shooting hand in general. Also, in this split second, she had not pulled down the hammer yet.

This time, Anna launched out her arms, grabbed onto Brenda’s wrist, and pulled herself into the air, launching the surprised bartender forward. In the process, DeWitt managed to grab Brenda’s gun, before sliding out from under the bartender’s body on her own. Standing tall, she aimed both at the bartender and the bouncer.

“You didn’t have to make this so messy,” Anna declared.

Charlie raised a finger. “You didn’t have to make us such a mess!” he called out in pain.

Brenda pushed herself up and turned around to face the detective. “You’re one of Fink’s folk, right? Here to ruin everything!”

“Fink? Are you saying Fink had to do with the Tenenbaum case?”

Brenda and Charlie exchanged glances.

“Who the hell are you?” Brenda asked finally.

“My name is Anna DeWitt. I’m a private investigator looking into the death of Dr. Brigid Tenenbaum. I got a tip that someone named ‘The Vox’ could help me.”

There was the distinct sound of a door opening. “At ease, you two,” a voice declared. “I think the detective could use a little help.”

Anna turned her head. Standing in an open doorway she had not noticed before was a woman, dressed in a suit that seemed worn from weeks of use, with spots of dried blood in various places, particularly around the sleeves.

“How you doin’, Anna?” the woman smiled.

The detective lowered her guns in shock. “Fitzroy?”

“Nothing but.”

* * *

“Sorry about the mess,” Fitzroy shrugged as they stepped off the stairs and into the cellar. “I mean, I probably couldn’t have cleaned it up even if I knew you were coming.”

Anna surveyed the room. It was a wine cellar, alright: barrels, bottles, and booze. At the center of the room was a barrel with a wooden board set atop: a makeshift table. It was surrounded by small stools, the same ones from up in the club, but clearly worn out. On top of the table were some papers, a laptop, and a plate with some pork rib bones, licked clean. Nearby was an army cot, its sheets in a pile. Fitzroy was not the cleanest guest.

“Can’t you find it in your heart to at least make your bed?” Brenda asked as she walked over to the cot and straightened out the sheets.

“Probably not,” Fitzroy shrugged. She turned to Anna, reached out a hand, and gently felt the detective’s jaw. “Sorry they beat you up,” she sighed. “But my safety—frankly, theirs as well—relies on no one suspicious finding out I’m here.”

Anna pushed Fitzroy’s hand down. “I’m fine,” she insisted. She looked at Brenda. “I’m sorry I broke your plate…and your wrist.” She looked at Charlie. “I’m sorry I tased you and caused her to shoot you.”

“Apology accepted,” Charlie replied, raising an eyebrow. He had parked himself on a bench and was inspecting the slug, which had landed in his bulletproof vest. Apparently he got shot at more often than it seemed.

“Ditto,” Brenda added, rubbing at her wrist. She looked at Daisy. “You know this bimbo?”

“Her father and I go way back. He helped me out on some of my investigative work, in exchange for me acting as her babysitter.”

“Didn’t see much of you after the funeral though. Was I not as useful to you as him?”

Daisy leaned against her table. “I didn’t want to put you in the same danger he went through to help me.”

This comment miffed the detective. Her thoughts wandered back to the woman from the office: _Whom do you speak for? Him or you?_

Anna placed her data oculus back over her eye. “Well clearly that’s not going to be the case tonight.”

Fitzroy leaned forward. “Hey there Alec. Nothing broken?”

_“No damage to my structure or memory. Though that was not an experience worth repeating.”_

“Did that thing just fucking talk?” Charlie asked.

“It’s an AI, dumbass,” Brenda groaned. “Where’ve you been the last two centuries?”

Fitzroy rolled her eyes. “Charlie, why don’t you get Miss DeWitt an ice pack or something?”

Charlie hesitated, then proceeded up the stairs, mumbling something about being drunk.

“May I ask why you’re hiding out in here?” Anna asked, figuring it was time to get down to business.

Fitzroy took off her jacket. “You know the story, of course: Brigid Tenenbaum, killed herself in an alleyway outside the Blue Ribbon restaurant.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small cell phone, which she handed to Anna. “What the press doesn’t know is why she was there in the first place.”

The phone was open to a series of messages exchanged between this phone and a number listed as “B. Tenenbaum.”

“I’d been in contact with Dr. Tenenbaum since I did a story on the AODC back in June,” Fitzroy explained. “About a month ago she called me up, saying she had a story that she needed me to report. But she refused to tell me over the phone: she needed us to meet privately. For god’s sake…you should’ve heard her: it was like she’d seen a ghost. So we set up a meeting in the Blue Ribbon restaurant that night.”

Anna scrolled down to the message, _Blue Ribbon, 7 PM. Tell no one of your presence._

“It took me about 20 minutes before I figured something was wrong,” Fitzroy sighed. “I went out to have a look around. Turned to look into the alleyway…” She trailed off. “Look, I’m a reporter, I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies. But nothing scared me more than seeing a woman so desperate to tell a story lying dead in a pool of her own blood. Next thing I remember is Ryan’s girl staring at me. With the blood on my hands and all that, I thought it best to skedaddle.”

“So what you’re saying is she had no reason to kill herself.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re here because she was actually murdered and you’re a suspect?”

Brenda laughed. “You wish. Then this place would feel like a real speakeasy.”

Fitzroy nodded in agreement. “Time of death was at least ten minutes before I found the body. McClintock was able to place me in the restaurant after that, and the waiters there had all seen me enter long before then. If the police hadn’t lost their balls and considered it a murder case, I would have a solid alibi. But given I was their only potential suspect, they decided the whole murder angle was down the drain.”

The sound of a door opening interrupted the conversation. In walked Charlie, carrying an ice pack and a six-pack…of beer. Six pack of beer.

He handed the ice to the detective. “Sorry if we beat you too much,” he said.

“You barely did anything,” Brenda retorted. “If anything, I gave her the punch. And the pierogis.” She popped open the beer can that Charlie had handed to her with her right hand, using her right arm to hold it in place. “Which I hope were good, considering you finished off the whole plate just so you could throw it at my hand.”

Charlie held her by the wrist and began wrapping a bandage around it. After a moment, he made eye-contact with Brenda and the two shared a brief kiss.

Anna stared at them. “Some relationship,” she whispered to Fitzroy.

“They’re my hosts, I don’t judge.”

“Continuing on: if you’re not a suspect, then why are you hiding?”

Fitzroy typed a few words on her laptop. “What do you know about Colony 12?” she asked.

DeWitt shrugged. “Well, about as much as the press would tell us. Just another mining colony, only some sort of virus overtook all its residents six months ago and the whole thing was quarantined. They shut down the tourist industry to the moon, saying something about a liability concern.”

“You’re a detective, lady,” Brenda snorted. “Even you would find a statement as vague as that suspicious.”

Anna stared at the bartender. “No, I wouldn’t,” she replied earnestly. “Because it’s not my business.”

Fitzroy rolled her left shoulder, making a strange cracking noise that made the detective cringe. “Don’t take much after your father, do you? He would show more concern if this happened.”

“I’m not my father,” Anna replied, adjusting her trenchcoat.

Fitzroy picked up the laptop and handed it to the detective. “Then perhaps I could use a fresh mindset. Tenenbaum’s work involved something that happened down in Colony 12. She refused to tell me too much before the meeting. But she did give me this when I insisted.”

DeWitt stared at the image on the laptop. It was a video file. “What am I looking at?”

“Tenenbaum told me it was an excerpt from security footage. There’s no sound, but this is what convinced me to take on the story.”

The footage was that of a very dark hallway, the only light coming from an apparent security office, which appeared to be deserted.

“Getting a very _Alien_ vibe here,” Anna commented. “But I don’t—“ that was when she noticed something was lurking in the security office. The angle of the camera prevented her from seeing what it was exactly.

After a moment, it began flailing around, repeatedly banging at the window at times. Apparently not finding that action satisfactory, it launched a chair straight through the glass. It scurried out of the broken window, too fast for Anna to identify what it was.

“Uh…” Fitzroy grabbed the laptop, but still held the screen up for Anna to watch. “Maybe I should hold it for this part.”

Anna was too distracted to realize what Fitzroy meant. Where had that thing scurried?

Suddenly, something gruesome showed its face directly in front of the camera. Anna jumped back, terrified. Its features suggested something that had once been human, but one that had gone to hell and back. Scars across its face, one eyeball gouged out, a patch of skin missing from its cheek. After staring at the camera for a long moment, it leaned back, raised its arm to reveal a large hook for a hand, and swung it directly at the screen. With that, the footage cut out.

Fitzroy stared at the detective. “Well?”

“What the hell was _that_?!” Anna shouted, panting.

“That’s what I wanted to find out,” Fitzroy replied gravely. “Whatever it was, someone didn’t want Tenenbaum revealing it to me.”

Anna managed to catch her breath. “I don’t think that should’ve been revealed to anyone!”

“There’s more.” Fitzroy rewound the footage. “Look at the watermark on the bottom left side of the screen.”

She placed a finger on the image. There, clear as crystal, was a single logo: _Fink Industries_.

“That’s why I’m down here. There’s no way I’d rule out a conspiracy. And I’ve had my fair share of conspiracies.”

“Odd clue. Care to clarify?”

“No.”

Anna held up one of her cuffs. Charlie cringed and nervously stepped back.

“I’m not going to taze you again, I assure you.”

“I’m not taking any risks.”

Anna extended her thumb and index finger on her left hand and pulled out a USB drive from the cuff. “See? Worst case I decide to plug it into your port. I assume you don’t have a port to stick things in?”

“Ooooh, he’s got one, alright,” Brenda muttered, fanning her face in a mock-flirtatious manner.

Anna looked at Fitzroy again.

“Like I said,” she shrugged. “They’re the hosts, I don’t judge.”

Anna plugged the drive into Fitzroy’s computer. “Alec, I need you to transcribe that entire message log into your database.”

_“Doing it now.”_

“And archive that footage. I want to find out what the hell was going on in Colony 12. Cull together any articles you can find on the internet.”

_“Right away.”_

“Well,” Anna sighed, putting her hands in her pockets. “You’ve either just made my life easier or my workload a lot more complicated.”

“I’m gonna raise the question these two asked you when you came in. Who hired you?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because I need to be sure I can trust you not to reveal my location.”

“You really think I would do that?”

“One can never tell with you DeWitts. Your dad certainly couldn’t resist anything for good pay.”

Anna looked over at Brenda and Charlie. Both were now staring at her. Charlie casually punched his fist into his open palm. Brenda’s hands were hovering over her gun holster.

“You know,” Anna shrugged. “You dropped me off at all those kickboxing classes. If I have to do anything drastic, we may ruin some expensive vintage wine.”

“Answer the question and we won’t have to.”

Ultimately, it wasn’t worth it to cause more trouble.

“I wish I could give you a definitive answer,” she said finally. “But the truth is, I’m not sure. Some woman hired me to investigate Tenenbaum’s death. She gave me this card, but I’m pretty sure it’s a fake identity.”

Fitzroy looked at the card. “No company name on it,” she muttered, handing it back to Anna. “But you can never be too sure. How much she paying you?”

“$800,000. Well, she gave me half—the rest is for after I finish the case.”

Brenda let out a long whistle. “You gonna match that, Daisy?”

“One doesn’t give out that amount like chump change,” Fitzroy said slowly. “Someone wants answers. Someone connected to it. Any information you gather, I want delivered to me first.”

“That’s gonna cost you.”

“Aw, not gonna cut a family friend some slack? You know how much reporters make.”

Anna looked at the reporter up and down. “Five grand.”

“Deal. As for further correspondence: we can’t communicate directly, it’s too risky.” She handed a small card to the detective. “I’ll send my old assistant Vivian Monroe to help you. She can relay back everything you find to me. I’ll ask her to give you my Tenenbaum interviews from the last time we talked, see if there was anything I missed.”

Alec beeped. _“Transfer complete_.”

“What about the money?”

“Once this is over you’ll get it.”

“I need some form of payment _now_.”

“Christ, you’re impertinent,” Brenda said loudly. “Here.” She reached over her shoulder and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf. “No drinking while driving.”

Anna inspected the bottle. Jack Daniels. “Smart move,” she said.

“Expensive and free,” Fitzroy agreed. “But for now, I think it’s time you went home and got some sleep.”

Anna scoffed as she pulled Alec out of the computer. “I don’t need sleep, I’m…” she trailed off as she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion rush over her. “I see your point.”

“You two can show her out, right?” Fitzroy asked, looking at Charlie and Brenda.

“Sure thing, Daisy. But I better get reimbursement for that plate. You’re not scot-free for a bottle of scotch.”

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Anna shrugged as she was guided towards the stairs. “Remember, you pulled a gun on me.”

* * *

Too exhausted to really drive, Anna let Alec take the wheel while she simply leaned against the window, looking out at the lights of the city passing by.

Ascension was a city floating through space, so technically speaking it was always night. But to help avoid the effects of seasonal affective disorder and Vitamin D deficiency, special lights were installed throughout to simulate sunlight. Keeping with the classic earth schedule, they were gradually switched off in the evenings, then gradually turned on in the mornings.

Thankfully, the lights were still switched off, so the detective could get some shut-eye if need be.

But now she found herself unable to doze off. And that should have been easy for her: the speeder’s hover motor made for a very smooth ride, the entire body was soundproof, and the city lights made for a dim atmosphere. And yet something was preventing Anna from sleeping.

“Alec?”

_“Yes, Ms. DeWitt?”_

“Could you cue up the video Fitzroy gave us?”

_“I thought you were trying to sleep, Ms. DeWitt. I doubt watching this would help.”_

“Well, it might.”

_“Very well then. Cuing video.”_

A projection appeared in front of Anna. On it was the security footage from Colony 12. She patiently watched the flickering image for a few seconds.

“Pause video.”

The projection stopped, leaving behind the image of the gruesome figure. Anna stared at it for a while.

“What do you make of this, Alec?”

_“Someone had one too many plastic surgeries.”_

Anna raised her hand towards the projection and motioned her fingers inwards. It shut off. “Who the hell would do that to themselves?”

_“Do what exactly?”_

“Gouge their own eye out for one thing, but, seriously: a hook for a hand? Skin completely cut out from the face?”

_“If I may, Ms. DeWitt: there are a number of other possibilities to consider.”_

“Clarify.”

 _“Well, maybe this pretty picture—“_ The image popped up again, this time on the dashboard. _“—was attacked. Maybe someone else gave them their injuries.”_

“Sure, that’s one possibility. What’s another?”

_“Well, maybe they did it to themselves against their own will.”_

“Meaning?”

_“You don’t seriously suggest that’s the image of a sane person?”_

Alec unpaused the footage. The thing snarled and slashed its hook against the camera, ending the video.

Anna shook her head. “I’ve gotten myself into some deep shit.” She directed her gaze back towards the city lights. “Hey, Alec, stop the car.”

The speeder came to a stop. _“What is it, Ms. DeWitt?”_

The detective grabbed the whiskey bottle. “I’ll be right back.”

She pushed the door open and walked across the deserted street towards the sidewalk. Two thugs were hassling a young woman who had been dropped off by her taxi driver a few blocks too early in a rough part of town. Knowing the kind of people in this area, it didn’t take two-and-two to figure out what was about to happen.

Anna tossed the whiskey into the air a few times. She liked the Jack Daniel’s bottles. They didn’t break when in contact with the human skull.

She came up directly behind one of the thugs, who was barking orders to his buddy. The other one had just pushed the woman to the ground and was now standing over her.

“Getting an early start, huh?” Anna said out loud.

The thug turned around. “What?”

Anna swung the bottle directly into his face. The brute went tumbling to the ground, spitting out a stream of blood and some teeth in the process.

“It’s 4 in the morning,” she explained. She tossed the bottle into the air again.

“Pah,” the other one snorted. “That’s basically night.”

Anna nodded. “Such an agreeable fellow.” She said this as she threw the whiskey bottle directly at the bridge of his nose. It bounced off with a distinct BOINK and knocked him backwards.

The bottle spun through the air a few times before landing in the open hand of its thrower.

The woman on the ground looked up, startled at what had just happened.

Anna helped her up. “You okay?”

“Uh…yeah.”

“Your place nearby?”

“It’s uh…the next block, actually.”

“I’ll walk you there. Make sure no one else bothers you.”

* * *

Unbeknownst to the detective, someone was watching from the safety of a nearby parked car. They had witnessed the entire brawl and its aftermath.

“Hmm,” they muttered as Anna watched the woman walk up the brownstone steps and into her building. “Talk about coincidences. Even I wouldn’t have planned that.”

* * *

Anna slid into the driver’s seat.

 _“No whiskey bottle, detective?”_ Alec asked pleasantly.

“Huh?” She hadn’t realized she had come back empty-handed. “Oh yeah. Knocking out some jackasses gives you enough rush. Sobered up for the night, gave it to her.”

_“Ah, perhaps for the best. I must say, you have a keen eye.”_

Anna did not respond. She just sat in the chair, staring at the blinking lights of the dashboard.

_“Ms. DeWitt?”_

With a heavy sigh, Anna shut off automatic, gripped the wheel, and stepped on the pedal. The speeder, with a slight hum, zoomed off into the night, kicking up some tin foil a teenager had dropped a few hours beforehand. A sanitation bot flew by, grumbled something about lazy humans, and plucked it out of the sky before moving on with his long, invariably pointless robotic life.


	4. Watched Clock

_The detective was standing in a strange room. The floor was a black and white checkered pattern. On four sides were blue velvet curtains._

_She looked up. No visible ceiling—the curtains seemed endless, stretching into a dark void._

_She looked down. There was a small boy in early-20 th century clothing. He held up a small card. “Telegram for you, Ms. DeWitt.”_

_The detective took the card. Strangely, this did not have the layout of a telegram—as far as she could tell, it was a blank card, its paper faded slightly. On it was a number: **“59.”**_

_“Who sent this?” she asked, looking up._

_The boy had vanished._

_She turned around. Standing there was a fireman, holding a long hose that disappeared into the curtains. He was standing before a cardboard cutout of flames._

_He turned on the hose. Blood came dripping out of the nozzle._

_“Just can’t seem to put it out,” he sighed._

_Static began to play._

_Footsteps._

_The detective turned. There was a shadow crawling along the outer edge of the curtain. It was a figure, hunched over, reaching forwards as if grasping at something that wasn’t quite there._

_The static grew louder._

_The figure stopped at the edge of a curtain. It turned. A gnarled hand gripped the edge of the curtain and gently started to pull it back._

_The static grew to a deafening roar._

_The figure gripped the curtain tighter and swung its arm revealing itself._

_All the lights went out._

_And in the darkness, there came a voice…_

**_“Is it someone new…?”_ **

* * *

Alec, who had set an alert to fully activate the moment the detective woke up, was the first voice she heard.

 _“Good afternoon, Detective DeWitt,”_ Alec hummed. _“I trust you slept well?”_

Anna rubbed her eyes and got off the couch. “Not really,” she said. She shook her legs out and walked over to the coffee dispenser, where a fresh cup was already being poured. As she reached it, she happened to glance at a clock on the wall.

“2 PM,” she muttered. “Perfect.”

_“You have a few new voicemails, detective. Three, to be exact.”_

“Comes with waking up at this hour,” Anna replied, pouring some sugar into the coffee. “Play ‘em.”

_“Activating.”_

The voicemail beeped. _“Hi Ms. DeWitt, this is Vivian Monroe, Daisy Fitzroy’s assistant. I’m, uh, contacting you about the little business regarding the interviews. I’m going to be running some errands until 4, but my schedule’s open after that. Maybe you wanna grab dinner somewhere? Let me know, my hours are yours…but again only after 4. Thanks.”_

Anna made a mental note to go buy some more cream. “Alec, could you send her this message?”

_“Processing…and….record.”_

“Hello, Vivian, this is Detective Anna DeWitt, responding to your earlier call.” She was in the process of feeling up her coat pockets when she discovered the card from the night before. “I’ll be waiting for you at the Watched Clock Diner as soon as you get off work, we can discuss matters there.”

_“Sending…sent.”_

“Hey Alec, could you dial 8212007?”

_“Dialing…dialing…ringing…The number you have dialed does not exist.”_

“What?”

_“Should I try again?”_

Ms. Cuternoll had said Anna would know to call when she saw her again…

“Maybe later. Start playing the others.”

_“Next message.”_

_“Hey, Anna, it’s Chief Detective Sullivan. Call me back as soon as you get this message. It’s urgent.”_

_“Next m—“_

“Call him back, Alec.”

_“Dialing…”_

_“Hello?”_

“Something on your mind, Sullivan?”

_“Ah, the one and only Anna DeWitt.”_

“It’s ‘Detective’ now, thank you.”

 _“Very well,_ detective _. Listen, one of the precincts called up this morning. Apparently two folks in the Pauper’s District were attacked last night. Said it was a whiskey bottle-wielding lady in a fedora and a trenchcoat.”_

Anna sat on her desk. “I see…”

_“Do you have anything to say?”_

“Well now, how can you be sure it was me?”

_“Well, you were spotted at the Club Kashmir only half an hour beforehand. And I can’t help but notice that the site of the attack is on the route back to your place.”_

Anna reached into a drawer and pulled out a bar of chocolate. “Hmm…” She took a bite out of it. “And the victims of this attack: did they claim it was unprovoked?”

Sullivan paused. _“As a matter of fact, further interrogation revealed this vigilante was protecting a woman they were trying to mug.”_

“Hmm…smart vigilante,” Anna mused, swallowing the chocolate. “And completely within her legal rights.”

_“So it seems.”_

“That’s not why you called, is it?”

_“Well, that brings me back to the Club Kashmir.”_

“What about it?”

_“We happen to know that’s where one Daisy Fitzroy is hiding.”_

Anna put down the chocolate bar. “Do you?”

_“We know why she’s there. And I think you know, too.”_

“Why should I know that Fitzroy’s hiding there? I go to clubs all the time.”

_“Club Kashmir’s a little out of your way, don’t you think?”_

“Oh. So you’re analyzing my every move, huh?”

Sullivan hesitated. _“Listen…”_

“No, you listen! You didn’t give a rat’s ass about the shit my dad pulled off when he ran this business!”

_“Your father—“_

“Was an alcoholic chain-smoking lunatic, but you knew he could bring justice even if he had to do some dangerous shit to do it! What’s wrong if I get my foot in some danger?”

_“Anna—“_

“It’s Detective, Sullivan!”

_“Detective, your father wanted to make sure you stayed safe.”_

“Well I want a puppy, doesn’t mean I’m gonna get one!”

_“Anna—“_

“Call me ‘Anna’ one more time and maybe I’ll go off and murder someone! How’s that for getting in danger?”

There was a long pause.

_“Look—“_

“I got stuff to do. If I’m ever spotted outside a strip club, don’t bother calling.” She pressed a button on her desk, ending the call.

 _“Well…”_ Alec breathed. AIs couldn’t really breathe, but tense situations necessitated that sound. _“That got heated.”_

Anna marched over to her fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer, popped open the cap, and took a huge gulp. “I’m so tired of him acting like a parent,” she groaned.

_“I wouldn’t be too judgmental. He did babysit you a few times in your youth.”_

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Anna kicked the fridge door closed. “Get the speeder ready, I’m going out.”

_“What about the third message?”_

Anna sighed. “Play it later. I’m not in the mood.”

* * *

A detective in Anna DeWitt’s position has little time for friends. She waits for her monthly welfare check, she shops for milk and alcohol, she grabs snacks from a bodega, and sometimes, especially at night, she’ll go to a bar for a few rounds of billiards. And if she’s up for it (she usually is), she hits the sauce. Then she goes to bed and wakes up with a hangover more painful than having her brains smashed in by a slice of lemon wrapped around a very large gold brick.

The only times she didn’t get disgustingly drunk were when she was on a case. She knew her limits…er, more or less. She needed to be able to concentrate. But she couldn’t help but grab an occasional beer or some scotch to numb the nerves.

Now, if Anna’s liver had a mind of its own, its thought process would probably go something like this:

“OHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOH—oh, she stopped. I guess she’s on a case. That means I have some time to myself. Hmm, something just occurred to me. Why don’t they call the SAT with the Essay the EssayT? That would consolidate a whole bunch of words. And how much wood would a woodchuck really chuck if it could chuck wood? Like, seriously, is it a question of how big the wood is? It could probably chuck woodchips. But a log? That’s a serious test of strength and willpower. I wonder—wait. I think she’s getting stressed again. This is gonna—OHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOH—“

Perhaps it’s for the best livers don’t have a thought process.

(And perhaps it’s for the best that writers don’t go off on a tangent. Let’s get back to the story.)

* * *

The cashier at the Grab ‘n Buy, a teenager named Genesis, knew DeWitt’s routine. Two cartons of milk, three or five six-packs of beer, and a box of Cadbury chocolate. She knew it so well she rang it up before Anna even had a chance to put it on the counter.

“Just woke up, huh?” she asked as Anna handed her a few bills.

Anna smirked. “How can you tell?”

“Your hat’s on backwards.”

“Ah.” Anna reached up and adjusted her hat. “Didn’t notice that, thanks.”

“Only three six-packs, huh?” Genesis handed Anna back her change. “You on a case?”

My point still stands that Anna DeWitt had little time for friends. Genesis was friendly, and she knew quite a bit about her frequent customer. But on the other hand, Anna did not know very much about Genesis, just that she was 18-years old, worked at the Grab ‘n Buy, and liked experimenting with her hairstyle, which her manager allowed after a fairly punchy visit from a certain detective who happened to be buying two cartons of milk, three six-packs of beer, and a box of Cadbury chocolate.

“You bet. Got it at around three in the morning.”

Genesis could very easily be a friend. But she was always on duty, and Anna was always on some sort of business. So they never really hung out. Such was the life of a person in retail.

“Hey, could you hurry up?” someone called out from behind. “You’re holding up the line!”

Anna and Genesis shared an annoyed sigh, and the detective grabbed her bags from the counter.

“Have a nice day,” Genesis said in her typical retail voice.

“Same to you,” Anna said in her not-so-typical sober voice.

She headed for the door, just happening to glance back at Genesis ringing up the next customer.

Then she was out the door.

And then she walked back in, thoroughly perplexed.

The customer was gone. Genesis was sitting in her chair, reading a magazine.

“Uh, Gen?”

“Mm? Forget something?”

“No, I’m—where’s that customer you were just ringing up?”

Genesis looked around. “What customer? You were the only person in the store.”

That didn’t seem right. “You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re not pulling my leg, right?”

“I think I’d know if I was just ringing up a person. It’s the only social interaction I get these days.”

Anna’s eyes darted around one last time. Then she pulled out her phone and the card she had received the night before. She dialed the number on the card.

_“Hello, Detective.”_

“Alright, I don’t know how the hell you did that, but we need to meet.”

_“Of course. Watched Clock Diner, after you are finished with that other friend of yours.”_

“Fine. See you then.” Anna hung up. “Sorry for bothering you, Genesis.”

“No problem.”

Anna gave a slightly forced smile before exiting the store. In her haste, she failed to notice Genesis’s nose was now bleeding profusely.

Genesis, however, had noticed it, and was now using her smock to clot it. She was not having a very good day.

* * *

The Watched Clock diner was not a remarkably tidy place. If you came here, it was for the service and the jukeboxes they had set up next to the tables, not for the décor, which reminded Anna of a shitty Christmas lights and display contest.

“More coffee?” asked the waiter, a middle-aged man named Hiro. He too knew DeWitt’s routine. A cup of coffee, a waffle, and whipped cream.

“Yeah, okay,” Anna replied, handing him the cup. “So…” She wasn’t feeling too social, but she felt obligated to fill this guy’s mundane life. “Read any good books lately?”

“Well, I just bought Sofia Lamb’s new novel,” Hiro replied as he handed the cup back to Anna.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. It’s a biography, right?”

“Well, she calls it ‘a free expression of the mind of an average citizen’…so yeah, a biography.”

Anna laughed as she took a sip of her coffee. “So, how are things holding up here?”

“Pretty fine. Ever since Cohen’s daughter became a regular here, we’ve been getting a little more business. No one wanted to take a picture of this place until she started coming in.”

A few months before, Anna had infiltrated the Club 80s in Midtown to steal a file. This incident had involved drugging a clubgoer as a distraction, only to find out later that this clubgoer had actually been LeSandra Cohen, socialite and daughter of Ascension celebrity Sander Cohen, not to mention the owner of the Club 80s. In the end, there were no hard feelings between the two—actually, Ms. Cohen had propositioned Anna in the aftermath, but was gently turned down.

“How is Les, by the way? Haven’t talked to her since I broke into her club back in June.”

“Pretty good. Although she doesn’t drink anything that she turns her eyes away from for more than a few seconds. You left quite an impression, it seems.”

“I think that’s sound advice for any person in a bar atmosphere. Besides, I don’t drug people unless I really need to.”

“That’s one phrase I hope I never hear again. Enjoy your coffee.” Hiro shuffled off to attend to another customer.

Anna sighed. After a moment, she tapped her data oculus and a screen was projected in front of her. This function, akin to the smart phones you readers are probably familiar with, was often used to organize notes or for video conferencing…but for now Anna wanted to play _Fruit Ninja_.

She became so engrossed in it that she did not notice a woman walk in and ask Hiro about someone named ‘Anna DeWitt’’ until Hiro called out, “Yo, DeWitt! Someone’s here to see ya.”

Anna quickly closed the app and stood up. “Afternoon,” she said, firmly shaking the woman’s hand. “You must be Vivian.”

“Who else would I be?” Vivian smiled warmly. “So you’re the great Detective DeWitt. Mind if I sit?”

“Go ahead.” Anna shuffled back to her seat at the booth, not quite watching Vivian take her own seat, but nonetheless aware that she was sitting down. “You have the interviews?”

Vivian reached into her purse and pulled out a data drive, an object that to the average reader of this story will look a bit like a USB drive. “72 hours of video interviews, 400 hours of audio interviews, and about 1,000 pages of notes.”

“All in here?”

“Yup.”

“You transferred all that into this drive yourself?”

“I’m a very patient person. Daisy says you’ll find audio interview 34, dated March 19, 2369, timestamp 32:43 particularly interesting, and I wholeheartedly agree.”

Anna plugged the data drive into her cuffs. “Alec, cue up that file.”

“Read it alongside note 343,” Vivian noted. “I think you’ll find it pretty relevant.”

The audio interview went like this:

* * *

**_Fitzroy:_ ** _Now, Ascension has an obvious disconnect from Earth, where some of the greatest scientific discoveries of human history have been made._  
**_Tenenbaum:_ ** _Yes._  
**_Fitzroy:_ ** _Could you talk a little bit about the relevance of the Ascension scientific community in future innovations?_  
**_Tenenbaum:_ ** _Ah, in what context?_  
**_Fitzroy:_ ** _Human-race, I guess.  
_ **_Tenenbaum:_ ** _Well, Ascension is the first successful implementation of an idea we humans have dreamed of since the Soviets launched Sputnik in 1957: a city in space._

* * *

Anna made note of Tenenbaum’s strong German accent, which she actually hid most of the time during her public speeches. She sounded very informal in this interview, a tone Anna was not expecting from their occasional meetings in the past.

Tenenbaum continued…

* * *

_…Besides the realization of this dream, Ascension provides us a large-scale environment in which we can perform experiments not even the International Space Station had the capacity to perform. Obviously there have been experiments in solar sails and waste recycling, but the most relevant part of our contributions to the human race is our work on the moon._  
**_Fitzroy:_ ** _Oh?_  
**_Tenenbaum:_ ** _Close proximity to the moon means the scientific community of Ascension gets the first chance to inspect the various minerals and substances we find under the surface. The mining colonies serve dual purpose for Ascension: new business ventures, and places to learn more about the universe we live in.  
_ **_Fitzroy:_ ** _You mentioned “substances.” I’m…I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, could you clarify?_

* * *

The audio merely played the sound of clothing brushing against clothing, but Fitzroy’s notes on the interview gave away what was happening: **When asked about substances doc wrings hands bites lip.**

* * *

**_Tenenbaum:_ ** _Well, let’s just say it’s an exciting venture I’m sure people will be keen to know about.  
_ **_Fitzroy:_ ** _I see. Well, moving on then, could you tell me about—_

* * *

Anna stopped the audio. “Well, guess Fitzroy wasn’t so paranoid after all.”

Vivian nodded. “And by the sound of it, neither was Tenenbaum. Anyway, Daisy said I should highlight that quote in particular.”

“I see.” Anna closed the file and unplugged the drive from her cuffs. “Any hints leading to Fink’s involvement?”

Vivian looked puzzled for a moment. “Oh, right, Fink. That video and all. No, nothing other than that watermark. Regardless…” she reached into her pocket and handed Anna a small white card. “Here’s my number. I’m a free spirit and a hired hand. Daisy told me to help you out on anything you need.”

Anna pocketed the card. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She had taken the liberty of making careful note of Vivian’s appearance. She wasn’t necessarily attractive on the whole, but she did have a curious air about her. Her hair was done in a ponytail, and she certainly had a good handle on makeup, though for some odd reason there was a lot more of it around her right eye than the rest of her face. She didn’t look all too comfortable in her work outfit—a white button down with a matching black skirt and jacket—and Anna couldn’t figure out why. “Is something wrong?” she asked finally.

“Hmm?” Vivian jumped, apparently not having realized Anna was staring at her. “Oh, sorry, it’s just…you know, people generally don’t expect to see a…girl detective in their early-20s.”

Anna laughed. “Well, it’s a bit like Columbo. People lower their guard and leave the answers open for me. How’d you get the black eye?”

Vivian looked startled. “How did you know—?”

“Makeup hides a lot of things. Zits, scars, dermatitis…but it certainly doesn’t hide swelling.”

Vivian brushed her fingers against her face. “Punching bag went into my face during kickboxing class.”

“A fellow kickboxer. I like you.”

“I wanted to hide it for our first meeting. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“Nothing gets past me,” Anna replied. “You should know that before ever getting involved with the great Detective DeWitt.”

Vivian smiled. “Well, then, the Great Detective…I’m off. Need to run some last few errands. But, yeah, call me if you need anything.” She picked up her purse, gave a slight bow of respect (“Strange,” thought Anna), and left the diner.

Anna examined the card in her hands for a moment before pocketing it. With a shrug, she pulled out the card she had received the night before. Taking a moment to wipe off a strand of fabric that had stuck to the paper, she examined its contents once more.

**Reece Burlott  
3262013**

A blot of red hit the card, covering the “Bur” on the name.

Anna’s right hand instinctively moved to her nostrils, where she discovered some blood coming out. “Shit,” she muttered, grabbing a bunch of napkins from the dispenser at her table and wiping off the blood flow.

“You seem to be having a bloody good time,” a British-accented voice declared.

Anna looked up. Sitting across the table from her was a ginger-haired man, clad in a white tuxedo with a blue rose pinned to his lapel. He looked like he had just come in from a grand ball.

“Apologies,” he said, catching himself. “You must understand, I don’t normally use bloody as an expletive. I simply believed you had a sense of humor.”

Anna stared at him for a long time, trying to figure out how to respond while still trying to stop her nose from bleeding. Ultimately she made the decision to open her jaw wide and say “Hahahahahahahaha” in a mocking tone. After deciding her nose had stopped bleeding, she took the napkins away from her face.

“You remember me, I suppose?” the man asked.

Anna gave another “hahahahaha” before taking a sip of her coffee. “’Course I remember you, Mr. Reece Burlott. One does not easily forget the man who got past my state-of-the-art security system and sat on my couch. Especially the man who did this last night.”

Reece Burlott gave a knowing smirk. “No,” he replied. “I suppose one doesn’t. I must say, you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself there.”

“…of what?”

“Oh, never mind that.”

Silence.

“Why are we meeting now? I thought you would let me do this case and then show up several days from now when I inevitably get stumped.”

“Well, to your credit, you’ve made a lot of progress in only twelve hours. I see you’ve met with Fitzroy’s assistant.”

“Yeah. Nice girl. Seems a little starstruck. I guess I’m an inspiring person.”

Reece raised an eyebrow. “Flattery never travels far,” he opined. “Besides, she only gave you the bare minimum of what you need.”

Anna stared at him incredulously before holding up the data drive. “You call this the bare minimum? 72 hours of video interviews, 400 hours of audio interviews, 1000 pages of notes?”

“Yes, technology has certainly gone far since Steve Jobs and Bill Gates,” Reece replied, unimpressed. “But it still has its limitations when compared to living humans. You must remember, Fitzroy merely interviewed Tenenbaum. One could easily glean the kind of person the good doctor was from talking to her for hours on end. But to know what exactly went on in her mind is a problem best solved by the ruffians.”

He tossed a metal object onto the table—a ring of keys. Three keys, to be precise.

Anna picked them up. “What’s this?”

“The keys to Tenenbaum’s apartment,” Reece replied. “Well, the green key is. The blue key opens up her file cabinet. If she kept any information on her connection with Fink, it would be in that cabinet.” He pulled out a piece of paper. “Map of the apartment, so you can make a quick entrance and getaway. She kept all of her files here.” He pointed to a section of the paper marked “STUDY.”

“What about the red key?”

“That’s a surprise.”

“Hmm. Never been a big fan of surprises.”

Reece blinked a few times. Then he grabbed the saltshaker, pulled off the top, and threw the contents directly into Anna’s face. “Surprise!” he proclaimed.

Anna blinked a few times with disapproval. Strangely, Reece did not appear embarrassed or regretful of the matter. He didn’t even appear amused: the same serious expression that had clung to his face since he appeared in the booth was still there.

Hiro leaned over the table. “Is he bothering you, DeWitt?”

Anna brushed some of the salt crystals from her face. “He’s a little more confusing than bothersome.”

Hiro turned to Reece. “If I catch you pulling that crap again, I’m banning you from this establishment.”

Reece smiled. “But of course, Mr. Yagashi. I do apologize, I just wanted to add a little flavor to the detective.”

Hiro laughed, but was quickly silenced by an annoyed glare from Anna. “Oh, that’s uh—that’s not funny,” he muttered as he went back to his business.

“I’ve had worse shit thrown in my face,” Anna growled. “Otherwise I’d be at your throat right now. But don’t ever do that again.”

“Were you surprised?”

“Yes. And I was not a big fan of it.”

“Duly noted. Apologies, I just wanted to gauge your reaction to shock. Well, I must depart—I think Mr. Yagashi is giving me the stink-eye.”

Anna looked over at Hiro. Indeed, he was giving Reece Burlott the, uh, stink-eye.

“One more thing,” Reece noted as he got out of his seat. “I know what you’re hiding.”

Anna stared at him. “I—what?”

“I know what you’re hiding. You can’t keep it on the down-low forever. One day you will have to tell someone.”

Anna knew exactly what Reece was talking about. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. She was lying.

“You’re lying,” Reece said. He was telling the truth.

“I’m not,” Anna said. She was lying again.

Reece smiled. “If urgency is your intention, I would recommend entering the house tonight. Try not to make yourself look suspicious.” And with that, he walked out of the diner.

Hiro arrived with the Anna’s waffle. “Who was that guy, anyway?” he asked, putting the plate on the table.

Anna picked up her fork and knife. “I honestly wish I knew,” she replied.

“I’ll tell you what, he’s pretty bold,” Hiro mused. “I’d hate to know what his past is.” He headed back to the counter.

Anna cut a piece of the waffle and ate it calmly. She was about to cut another piece when she noticed something about one of the bloody napkins she had just used. Puzzled, she grabbed it and unfolded it.

It was physically (not to mention generally) impossible. But somehow the blood had trickled in a way that spelled out **_THE ANSWER IS MUCH CLOSER THAN YOU THINK._**

“Who _are_ you?” she groaned, leaning back in defeat.

* * *

Anna returned to her office about half-an-hour later. Her janitor, a guy named Ken, had left a note saying he would be out this week because of a family emergency.

It didn’t matter really, he was a shitty janitor.

When breaking into a person’s house, she always brought three things: slippers (so she wouldn’t make any noise), a flashlight (so she wouldn’t have to turn on the lights), and a pack of Oreos (in case she got hungry).

As she searched through her drawers for milk’s favorite cookie, Alec chirped up. _“Detective, do you want me to play the remaining voicemail message from this morning?”_

“Huh? Oh, go ahead.”

_“Activating…”_

_“Good morning, detective.”_ This caller, a male by the sound of it, was speaking in an accent Anna had difficulty identifying. _“I trust you are asleep right now. After all, you did have a late night.”_

“Who the hell is this?”

Alec hummed. _“No caller ID, apparently.”_

 _“Don’t bother calling back this number, it’s a restricted line. I will cut to the chase. I know what Fitzroy wants you to do. You seem like a decent gal, DeWitt. Don’t be naïve. What happened in Colony 12, it’s none of your business. It was never Fitzroy’s business, either, but I guess she’s too far gone anyway.”_ The voice’s tone grew colder. _“I’ve got my eye on you, Anna DeWitt. And let me be very clear—you need to drop the case.”_

“Haven’t heard that one before,” Anna muttered, finally finding an unopened pack of Oreos.

_“If you don’t, well, you’ve made your choice. Just like Tenenbaum did.”_

The pack of Oreos dropped to the ground.

 _“She went too far, and it got the German whore killed. Bled to death in an alleyway, all alone, her secrets locked in that tiny noggin of hers. I think your next moves should be pretty clear, if you don’t want to see the consequences of interfering.”_ There was a slight pause. _“Have a nice day.”_

 _“End of message,”_ Alec announced.

Anna stood in her office, which suddenly felt very small. “Alec, can you trace the call?”

_“It’s like he said, detective. It was on a restricted landline.”_

Anna slammed her palm into her forehead. “Someone higher up. Fuck.”

 _“Well, whoever he was, he sounded like an agreeable fellow,”_ Alec commented. _“I suppose that erases any doubts you may have about the circumstances of the good doctor’s death.”_

Anna looked at the picture frame on her desk. “No sense quitting,” she said, picking it up. “I know how these S.O.B.s work. Threats, money, murder…” she picked up her revolver and spun the cylinder. “All part of the job.”


	5. Home Invasion

**Tuesday, December 16, 2369, 10:23 PM  
On a highway going through Downtown Ascension**

The car radio had been playing “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” on repeat for about twenty minutes before Anna finally decided to turn it off.

 _“Oh, I was actually starting to enjoy that,”_ Alec groaned sarcastically.

Tonight Anna felt like driving the car herself. It was a completely unnecessary measure, given Alec’s autopilot function, but she figured breaking and entering needed a hands-on approach.

_“Are you going to talk? These car rides get rather boring.”_

Anna looked out at the massive billboard, showing a speech given by Zachary Hale Comstock. On the lower right half was a sign saying, “WANT TO HEAR CHAIRMAN COMSTOCK SPEAK? TUNE IN TO CHANNEL 1912!”

“The heck,” Anna muttered. “Alec, turn on Channel 1912.”

Comstock’s voice boomed through the speakers, prompting Anna to quickly lower the volume. **_“—by the Board of Improvement. We are at our_** _base an offshoot of the Earth Government’s experiments in interstellar travel. That is still one of our major goals. However, we as a collective have developed as an independent group. The City of Ascension cannot limit itself to the rule of Earth Government. Perhaps we can serve as their new experiment: a successful implementation of a truly bureaucratic state. But until then, we—“_

Anna turned the dial, and “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” began playing again. “No complaining from you,” she warned, waving a finger at the dashboard.

 _“Who’s complaining?”_ Alec replied. _“I’d take George Harrison over Zachary Comstock any day.”_

* * *

The song played another two or three times before the speeder finally eased off the airway and down into the Pauper’s District, eventually coming to a halt across the street a block away.

“No way.” Anna hit the touchscreen on the dashboard, until a few digits popped up.

Then she looked up again and noticed a patch of blood on the sidewalk across the street, still not cleaned up from a brief skirmish that had occurred that morning…or night. I don’t really care.

“A neighborhood full rapists, drug-addicts, and muggers,” she muttered to herself as she got out of the car. “Tenenbaum lived _here_?”

 _“She was a noted philanthropist,”_ Alec noted. _“It’s often best to work closer to home.”_

* * *

Breaking and entering is one of Ascension’s “marker infractions.”

“Marker infractions” are of the nature of intentional destruction of property. They include, but are not limited to, murder, assault, and robbery.

Engaging in a marker infraction and getting convicted leads to a so-called “Mark” on your record. Ten marks on your record results in exile from Ascension and, depending on the nature of each marker, detainment on either Earth or one of the moon’s prison colonies.

Certain marker infractions count for more marks than others and result in different consequences: murder is an automatic ten marks with trial and imprisonment, a single case of rape is a five mark and detainment for extended disciplinary action, and robbery is a three mark with community service hours.

Breaking and entering without actually taking anything, which is technically what Anna was about to do, counts for one mark.

It is worth noting that the marker system is wholly dependent on whether the victims or their next of kin wish to press the marker decision on the perpetrator.

Incidentally, Anna has three marks.

* * *

She had had her doubts about the key, but it appeared to work just fine. After hesitating a moment in case any alarms went off, she cautiously stepped through the threshold and into the dark apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her.

After coming to the ultimate conclusion that at the very least no one was in the house at the moment, Anna switched on her flashlight.

No sound inside, suggesting no one was home. This would be understandable generally, except there were clear signs items had been moved recently: chairs that were not quite pushed under the tables all the way, a vacuum cleaner sitting abandoned in the middle of the living room.

“You know what you were saying about working closer to home?” she whispered, shining the beam at a framed painting by Ascension elite artist Sander Cohen. “I guess work environment never matches home environment.”

Something squeaked from around the corner, a dark hallway. Quickly, Anna switched off her flashlight and waited for a sound. After a moment, a faint light emerged. Curious, Anna peaked in time to see a figure walking into what she decided was the bathroom based on Mr. Burlott’s map. The door closed behind the figure.

 _Hmm,_ she thought to herself. _Must be a relative or a friend. Either way, I don’t want them to see me._

She zipped down the other part of the hallway to Tenenbaum’s office, making sure to close the door behind her. She turned on the flashlight and did a quick scan of what she had ahead of her.

The beam of light focused on the computer, a CMPorter 24. Not an ancient computer by any means, but certainly not a top-of-the-line model. Anna had used one of these during the college applications process. The mere memory of sending in her college essays on the last second of January 1, 2363 was enough to make her shudder. There was a large filing cabinet sitting next to the desk, most likely the one the blue key opened. Next to the filing cabinet was a safe. In interest of time, Anna decided to leave that alone.

 _“What do you make of this place?”_ Alec chuckled. _“More organized than you.”_

“One of these days I’m gonna reprogram your dry humor subroutines.” Anna held up one wrist and tapped the cuff. Out popped an odd looking device, which she attached to Tenenbaum’s hard drive. “Alright, Alec. See what you can download off that drive about Colony 12 with the MouseHack, I’ll do the cabinet.”

Anna tapped the side of her data oculus and cued up her Mobile Access application. After a moment, the MouseHack beeped, and Alec made a bizarre humming sound.

“Something wrong?”

_“Nothing too serious…I just need to reconfigure the coding. Continue with your task.”_

Anna opened up the cabinet and began looking through each drawer.

The first drawer was just bank statements—nothing too special.

The second, third, and fourth drawer contained a bunch of adoption records. Tenenbaum must’ve like checking up on the children she sent out into the city.

She finally found something of note in the fifth drawer: a paper marked “TEST 26 REVIEW, FINK EUGENICS DOWNTOWN, ROOM A33.”

 _Ominous_ , she thought. She pulled it out. A lot of personal information was redacted, but the notes had Tenenbaum’s signature on it.

 _“Test subject •••• •••••••_ (the name had been redacted) _showed no initial signs of discomfort, just slight cringe as we inserted needle. After approximately ten minutes, ••. ••••••• showed typical signs of restlessness, and we began test. Was asked to pick up knife from table. Obeyed. Was asked to put knife in other hand. Obeyed. Was asked to use knife to cut off strand of hair. Obeyed. Was asked to prick finger with knife. Hesitated. Was asked to do so again. Obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Was asked to put knife blade first between teeth. Obeyed with initial reluctance. Was asked to take knife and carve out the word ‘APPLE’ into tabletop. Did so, did not cringe despite terrible noise. Was asked—“_

“What the fuck?” Anna blurted out, staring at the sheet. “’Was asked to slice open neck. Obeyed.’” She lowered the sheet and looked at nothing in particular with incredulous shock. “What the hell kinda drug did they give them?” She looked back at the sheet.

 _“Blood erupted from carotid artery, spattered observation window. Hank refused my direct demand to get assistance. Wanted to try something. Exactly 30 seconds later subject pushed self off ground. There was still blood on clothing and skin, but neck injury had fused itself together, with only a massive scar. ••. ••••••• said nothing and awaited further commands. Medical attention was carried out, subject was sedated. When revived approximately twelve hours later, subject had no memory of anything past pricking knife with finger. On previous tests, subjects had memories of slicing neck open, or outright refused. Cannot know for sure why this subject did so without hesitation. Hank suggests result of gradual reliance on substance, or because we allowed it to let him heal. Further review—“_ Tenenbaum had abruptly stopped writing.

“For a renowned philanthropist, that’s a reckless use of human life,” Anna commented, using her data oculus to scan the document into a PDF. “Science gets a penalty for very bad behavior. Alec, what’ve you found on the data drive?”

 _“Nothing yet, Ms. DeWitt. This firewall—it’s not like anything I have encountered. Or rather, it_ is _every firewall I have encountered. A multi-layered firewall, if you will, each wall progressively difficult.”_

“I oughta buy that sort of security system.” Anna put the sheet back into the cabinet and pulled out another file. This one had a paper labeled “GENETIC MAKEUP ON SUBSTANCE” and a small audio recorder. Anna held it up to her ear and pressed “play.”

It was Tenenbaum’s voice. _“The substance acts like a benign cancer, destroying native cells and replacing them with stem versions. Exposure to substance causes a number of effects. Comstock, despite my objections—_ “ Anna had to look at the audio recorder for a second in surprise. _“—wanted to see if it could cure the arthritis in his hand. To our surprise, upon direct exposure substance caused inflammation to go down, effectively curing Comstock of the affliction. He wants us to put it on the market, but Herr Wahl, myself, and Mr. Fontaine believe it would be wiser to do more tests.”_

Anna lowered the recorder. “Huh. Hey, Alec?”

_“Yes, Detective?”_

“Hold off on that firewall for a minute and help me out here. I need you to run a scan on when this recording was made.”

Alec hummed slightly. _“March 17, 2369. Exact moment recording began was at 22:54:33.”_

Anna made a mental note that this was two days before Fitzroy interviewed Tenenbaum about the whole “substances” thing.

Suddenly, the MouseHack beeped and flashed a green light.

_“Last firewall has been disabled. That…was…surprisingly fast. Ah. I’ve found the email Tenenbaum was referring to…and it has something you might be interested in.”_

“Pull it up on the data oculus.”

The image of the email was projected directly in front of Anna’s face.

* * *

_Re:Your Initial Reluctance  
March 17, 2369, 20:34:12_

_Dr. Tenenbaum,  
_

_I was distressed to learn of your rejection of my proposal to prepare the substance recovered on Colony 12. While I appreciate your concern for the effects of the potentially untested properties, I hope you understand that the basis of Ascension’s founding was that of experimenting with the future. No one before the Board of Improvement ever thought a city in space was possible, yet here it stands. And the discovery of the substance they found in Colony 12 could prove to advance humanity hundreds of years into the future._

_I hope you reconsider your stance._

_By my allegiance to Ascension,_  
Zachary Hale Comstock  


_P.S. If you do change your mind, what would you say to calling this substance “ADAM?” As a literary reference, not necessarily a religious one, though we cannot ignore the small but fractious religious population in the city._

* * *

“ADAM,” Anna muttered. “Well, clearly it didn’t go on the market before Tenenbaum kicked the bucket.”

 _“March 17…Colony 12 was shut down on June 13,”_ Alec observed.

Anna enlarged the image and focused on the phrase “…the substance they found in Colony 12 could prove to advance humanity hundreds of years into the future.”

 _“Do you suppose Comstock is behind Tenenbaum’s death?”_ Alec suggested. _“Displeasure at this substance never making it to market?”_

“No,” Anna closed the email as she thought to herself. “The time span between email and shutdown date is too long. Besides, it was the Board that shut down the colony. Something happened in those three months to change their minds.”

She hesitated, before cuing up the security footage Fitzroy had given her. “And I suspect this has something to do with it,” she added, shutting it off before the ghastly figure could leer its ugly head in front of the camera.

_“Oh dear.”_

“What?”

_“Detective, that firewall on Tenenbaum’s computer seemed a bit unusual, so I decided to scan the set-up. It seems it wasn’t a massively coded security protection. Someone was literally coding more firewalls as quickly as I was breaking them down.”_

“Meaning?”

_“Someone knows we’re here.”_

Anna looked at the files. “Shit,” she whispered. She quickly began throwing them back into the cabinet. But before she could finish, her eyes wandered to a picture frame sitting on the desk right next to the computer. Curious, she picked it up.

It was a photo of two women. The first, Anna easily recognized as Dr. Brigid Tenenbaum. She was wearing a blue dress and had had her hair done. She looked strangely happy—the good doctor had a reputation for her somewhat sad expression in all her educational videos and pleas for donations to the AODC. The public suspected it was from seeing all those orphans.

The other woman was dressed in a graduation gown. She was holding a diploma and proudly displaying it for the camera. She had her arm wrapped tightly around Tenenbaum’s shoulder.

Anna easily recognized the other woman, too. She looked a little different without a bunch of thugs standing over her.

Anna suddenly felt the heat of a flashlight beaming directly onto the back of her neck, followed by the distinct _click_ of a shotgun pumping.

“Put. The photo. Down.”

Anna quietly laid the photo back on the desk where she found it.

“Hands in the air.”

Anna obeyed.

“Turn around.”

Anna turned around and looked directly into the flashlight beam. The glare prevented her from identifying who its possessor was, but she could guess.

“Hey!” the person exclaimed, lowering the flashlight. It was the same woman from the photo. “You’re that lady who beat up those thugs for me last night! What the hell are you doing in my mom’s office?!”


	6. No Trouble

Anna analyzed the woman who still had her gun trained on her. She was young, probably 3 or 4 years younger than Anna. She was clad in a white “Ascension Institute of Technology” tank top and a pair of sweatpants. There was no question about it—she was the same woman Anna had saved from a group of thugs the night before, only a block away from this very building.

“Well?” the woman asked. “Speak up, or the police’ll find you lying on the ground with a massive hole in your chest.”

Her finger was not on the trigger, so she wasn’t ready to shoot just yet.

“I’m sorry, your _mom_ ’s office?” Anna blurted out. It was something that had been eating at her since the woman said it.

“Yeah, mine,” the woman replied, rolling her eyes. “Now give me a reason not to shoot you right now.”

“Because I’m unarmed?”

The woman raised an eyebrow and motioned with her head to the holster attached to Anna’s belt, exposed due to Anna having her arms in the air.

“Okay, so I’m armed,” Anna replied. “I forgot I had that.”

“Stop joking around,” the woman growled. She pushed the muzzle of the shotgun forward, bumping it directly into Anna’s nose. She would have rather been shot in the chest than have that happen. “I want an answer now!”

“Alright, geez! I came here to look at your mom’s files.”

“Oh, is that it?” the woman asked sarcastically. “Gee, you could’ve just asked when you saved my life last night! Who are you, one of Fink’s people?”

“So you suspect him too, huh?”

“Answer my question or I’ll hit you on the nose again.”

“Okay, maybe if you put that shotgun down instead, I would have a better chance at explaining myself.”

The woman hesitated, then lowered the weapon. “Alright, fine. But don’t try anything funny. I know for a fact the chief of police will be here any minute.”

Anna laughed. “Sullivan. That guy gives me enough trouble as is.”

“You know him?”

“Know him? He’s practically my boss when I’m not interfering with police business.” After a pause, she added. “Sorry. My name is Anna DeWitt. I’m a private detective looking into the death of Brigid Tenenbaum.”

The woman stared at Anna. “DeWitt…you related to—“

“I’m his daughter. Basically, I’ve been given strong evidence that your mother was, in fact, murdered. And my job is to find out who murdered her.”

“So you’re _not_ with Sullivan’s people?”

“Far from it. He doesn’t even want me getting involved, he was already annoyed I met up with Fitzroy.”

The woman just blinked. It was apparent she didn’t really care about Anna’s issues with Sullivan.

Anna sighed. “Look, I’m just here because I have reason to believe your mother’s death was connected to that business on Colony 12 a few months back. So I came in to see what files she had, maybe learn more about what she was doing.”

The woman pursed her lips, before reaching for the light switch and flipping on the overhead lights. “Okay.”

Anna was stunned, partially from the lights coming on, and partially from this response. “’Okay’? That’s it?”

“Well, yeah. There was no way my mom killed herself. But Sullivan wouldn’t believe me. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Even a trenchcoat- and fedora-wearing detective who broke into your house?”

“So long as you’re not trying to rob me or steal my mother’s stuff, we’re cool. Besides, you saved my life last night.”

“Oh yeah, I did.”

“Do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

“Uh…”

“Come on.”

The woman high-tailed it out of the study.

Anna retrieved the MouseHack from the computer. “Talk about the power of coincidence.”

* * *

Anna sat at the table kind of awkwardly as Tenenbaum’s daughter watched the water heater on the counter.

“My name’s Sally, by the way,” the woman said. “Sorry I pulled a gun on you.”

“No, you were in the right,” Anna shrugged. “Umm, my AI, Alec, he said someone was setting up new firewalls as fast as he was breaking them down. That was you, right?”

“Yup. I’m a programmer.”

“So you type really fast?”

“Hardly. Those took me weeks to code. But I have them prepared when I know someone’s trying to hack into a computer I have some degree of responsibility over.”

“How’d you know we were hacking?”

“I knew you were coming in.” Sally turned her head to the right, revealing an earpiece. “This thing creates an alarm in two situations: 1) Someone breaks down the door. 2) Someone unlocks the door but doesn’t insert the key into the security panel.”

“Security panel?”

Sally walked over to the wall next to the door and pointed to a white box-like object. She put her hand around it and pulled the cover down to reveal a keyhole.

“Not like those big alarms that go ‘INTRUDER LEAVE IMMEDIATELY’,” she explained. “I get to contact authorities, intruder doesn’t even have to know I’m at home. Alarm went off, I grabbed my laptop and watched you on a security camera we stuck in an old Sander Cohen painting my mom had lying around.”

“Clever. I oughta get one of those.”

“Gonna be hard. Haven’t patented it yet.”

Anna looked up. “Did you program everything electronic in this apartment?”

The water heater whistled. Sally picked it up by the handle and poured the boiling water into two mugs she had prepared. “Pretty much. My mom was big on ‘letting kids develop on their own with some supervision.’ It was her way of setting an example for adoptive parents.” She carried the mugs over to the table. “She was infertile, you know. I like to think she felt some concern over where her orphan children went, so she formally adopted me.”

“And you went places,” Anna commented, remembering the graduation photo.

“Valedictorian right here,” Sally nodded. “That photo’s from three years ago. Graduated at 17, already midway through my junior year.” She leaned back. “I’m gonna take a gap year before I become a senior, though. Need some time to get my shit together. AIT’s offering to let me take the next semester off, but I’d rather get my courses in while I can.”

“Pretty brave of you.”

“Maybe.” Sally looked into her mug, which was still brewing. “Here’s something I don’t understand. Where’d you get the key?”

Anna pulled out the keychain. “My client gave it to me. Green key opens the front door, and apparently shuts off your security alarm. Blue key unlocked the file cabinet.”

“What about the red key?”

“I’m not sure.”

Sally reached out her hand and wiggled her fingers. Recognizing the gesture, Anna handed her the keys. Sally looked at each and squinted her eyes.

“Mold jobs. Someone got a hold of the originals.” She stared at the red key. “All except this one. I’ve never seen this before.”

“Something your mom kept locked you never knew about?”

“She didn’t keep a whole lot from me,” Sally said. “Besides her dealings with Fink, of course.”

“Oh?”

“She got a lot of funding from him a couple of months before Fitzroy wrote that article. She stopped talking about it after Colony 12 was shut down, but she kept her Fink Industries pass active.”

“How could you tell?”

“I scanned it to see if it had been swiped recently.”

“Of course you did.” Anna sniffed her tea. “Good stuff. How’d you know Colony 12 plays into this?”

“I was mending a hole in her coat when I discovered a note she had pocketed. Never told her I found it, but it said, _‘They didn’t give us enough time before they shut down that whole operation. We’ll have to try a different route.’_ It was signed ‘Hank.’”

“Hank?”

“I figure it was an alias for Fink, given she was still going to his properties.”

“Did you make a copy or take a picture? I might be able to look into the handwriting.”

“No dice, she must’ve gotten rid of it elsewhere. But I still have her Fink Industries ID card if you want that.”

“Works for me.”

Sally got up and left the kitchen. Anna, figuring she should take the opportunity while she could, cued up the PDF she had made of the Test 26 results.

Another reference to this mysterious “Hank.” It made sense as an alias for “Fink”—four letters, last two were both “n” and “k.” Then again, the sheet had a Fink Industries logo on it, so it didn’t make much sense for Tenenbaum to disguise Fink’s name for his own company.

Anna’s thought process was interrupted by a loud thumping at the door.

“This is the police!” called a voice.

Sally came running back into the kitchen. “Forgot to call him again,” she explained before swinging the door open. “Hey, Chief!”

Standing in the doorway was a stern-looking man, middle-aged. His hair was balding, though you could not tell at the moment because he was wearing a cap. He had a mustache running just above his upper lip.

As a child, Anna had always thought, “He looks like a fucking rodent.”

“Is everything alright?” the man asked.

“Everything’s fine, Sullivan,” Sally explained. “Just, uh, thought I heard something, guess I was wrong.”

Sullivan blinked. His eyes shifted until they focused on the person at the table who had their head hung low. He recognized the hat. “Anna? What are you doing here?”

Anna turned around. “It’s ‘Detective,’ Sullivan. And if you haven’t noticed, I’m enjoying a nice cup of tea.”

Sullivan stared at her, then looked back at Sally. “I apologize for her, Sally. She has a tendency to get caught up, her methods are a little unsavory, if you want to press—“

Sally interrupted him. “Oh, don’t worry, Sullivan. She’s a friend of mine. She has the key to get in, forgot to disable the security alarm, so that’s why I woke up and called you.”

Sullivan squinted his eyes and looked at Anna. “Is this the truth?”

“That is exactly what happened,” Anna said in a deadpan manner. She took a sip of her tea. “Cheers.”

Sullivan stared at her for a moment. He wasn’t buying this story at all. But there was nothing he could do, so he looked back at Sally, gave a casual “good night,” and left without another word.

“Thanks for saving my ass there,” Anna commented as Sally shut the door.

Sally kept her hand on the doorknob, her head tilted down. “Eh, my mom never liked him much. I figure you can do heaps better than he did.” She turned and looked at Anna. “Look, can I be frank with you? I know she didn’t give birth to me, but she loved me like I was her own child. Even on her busy schedule, she would always be there for school concerts and soccer games and hack-a-thons…” She walked over and sat at the table. “I’ve run this all through my head every day. She didn’t make enemies. That wasn’t her thing. Whoever did this to her was one sicko. And I don’t want that sicko on the loose.” She picked up her mug and took a big gulp from the tea. “She even wanted to help those lunatics who prowl the night, looking for some fresh meat to rob, rifle, and rape. I wonder how she would have reacted to last night.”

Anna blinked a few times, considering her next move. Then, on a whim, she reached out and gently held Sally’s hand. “I’ll figure out who did this. Just give me some time, it will all be over before you know it.”

Sally smiled. “Thanks,” she said. She handed the Fink Industries access card to Anna. “It’s got a specific code on it. You’d probably be able to figure out where it’s been used. Hey, come back anytime if you need to look at any more of my mom’s stuff. Or just email me, I kept electronic copies of everything. Might find something useful for you.”

“Will do.” Anna finished the rest of her tea. “And take some self-defense classes. I’m not always gonna be around to beat up some folks with a bottle of whiskey.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Sally went over to the counter and grabbed the whiskey bottle Anna had given her the previous night. “Want this back? I kind of accepted it out of gratitude, I’m not really an alcohol drinker.”

“Good for you,” Anna said, uncorking the bottle. “It’s a terrible habit,” she added, taking a massive swig. “Does real bad things to the liver.” She took another swig. “If I were you, I’d never even start.” She recorked the bottle. “Seriously though, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

* * *

Anna’s departure from the apartment building was interrupted by her sensing the figure watching her from the shadows.

“I know you’re there, Sullivan,” she said loudly.

The Ascension chief of police stepped out into the streetlight. “Evening, Detective.”

“And to you,” Anna said. “Fancy some whiskey?”

“Let’s skip the chitchat. What were you doing in Brigid Tenenbaum’s apartment?”

“Family friend. Wanted to check up on her daughter.”

A doubtful reply. “Family friend.”

“Yeah.”

Sullivan wasn’t showing it, but Anna sensed he was feeling very smug. “Fine then. What was her grandmother’s name?”

“Ruth Edith.”

“Pretty good. But that’s in public records. Take the data oculus off.”

Anna removed the device. “Continue.”

“Where did she get her medical degree?”

“Johns Hopkins.”

“Anyone could find that on Wikipedia. What was her favorite drink?”

“Shirley Temple.”

“W—“

“With an extra half-teaspoon of sugar,” Anna pointedly added.

This statement stunned Sullivan momentarily.

“That’s not something they report in the press,” Anna shrugged. “I figure that’s some relevant information.”

Sullivan could feel his smug sense of superiority gradually fading. He tried to hold onto it. “Now, look here, Anna. I know what you’re trying to do. Brigid Tenenbaum’s death was tragic, but that’s what suicide is, tragic.”

Anna ran her thumb across her fist. “I wouldn’t be investigating this if I even remotely believed that it was suicide.”

“I know you, Anna. You’re impulsive, just like your father.”

“You _don’t_ know me.” Anna took a step forward. “Your only association with me and DeWitt Investigations is the fact that you worked with my dad a few times on a case. Don’t go around thinking that makes you another father figure to me. You may have known my dad, but you sure as shit don’t know me.”

Sullivan blinked a few times. Finally deciding there was nothing he could do, he walked off into the night.

“Try not to get mugged!” Anna called out sarcastically. “Or better still, actually try it! After all, you’re the chief of police, you could just arrest them!”

* * *

The car ride back to the office went uninterrupted. But Anna was in too rotten of a mood to drive, so she let Alec take the wheel.

She looked at Tenenbaum’s ID card. Time to figure out where the good doctor had been.

“Alec, run an analysis on this card. I need to figure out where Tenenbaum went in the weeks before she died.”

_“Scanning…scanning…scanning…scanning…scanning…scanning…scan—“_

“ALEC!”

_“Scanning is very tedious work, Detective. Scanning…data confirmed. Tenenbaum accessed the following locations before her death, in order of frequency: 1) Fink Eugenics Downtown. 2) Fink Corporation Headquarters. 3) Fink Industries Carbon Scrubber 59.”_

“59…” There was something oddly familiar about that number. But Anna could not put her finger on it. It felt like a dream, a dream she no longer remembered clearly.

“There’s a lot of Fink there.” Anna pocketed the card. “Alec, send Vivian a message telling her to meet me tomorrow evening at 7 PM. I want to discuss something with her.”

_“Not earlier?”_

“No.” She tapped her data oculus and the PDF of the file in Tenenbaum’s drawer appeared in front of her. She zoomed in on the name _FINK EUGENICS DOWNTOWN, ROOM A33._ “Looks like I’ll be paying a visit downtown tomorrow morning.”

* * *

She arrived in front of her office at around 11:34 PM. At this point, all she really wanted to do was sleep. She’d had enough excitement for the day.

Anna got out of the car and was about to head for a door when she heard some shuffling that made her pause. Looking around, it was quite apparent she was alone on this street. And yet…

“Alec, can you do a thermal scan?”

Alec hummed, and a red filter was projected directly in front of Anna’s face. As she suspected, there was the outline of someone standing only a few yards away.

“Cloaking technology,” Anna called out. She turned around. “Good thing there’s only one of—oh fuck me.”

And then one of the seven outlines abruptly became a living, breathing person, who landed a punch directly into the detective’s nose.

“What is it with injuries to my nose today?!” Anna groaned as she hit the ground, her data oculus falling off and tumbling away. A moment later she felt a hood shoved roughly over her head.

“Stand up,” barked an unfamiliar voice. “We need to have a little talk.”


	7. No Guarantee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a double-chapter today, mainly because I really could not figure out how to lengthen this one or connect it with the previous or the next.

_The detective was standing in a strange room. The floor was a black-and-white checkered pattern. On four sides were blue velvet curtains._

_In front of her was a red leather barber shop chair._

_She looked around. There was nothing else in the room. With little option, she sat down in the chair._

_She looked up. No visible ceiling—the curtains seemed endless, stretching into a dark void._

_Suddenly, something grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her and the chair back into a reclining position._

_Staring at her was what looked like a surgeon. He wore a mask that covered everything but his glowing eyes. He held in his hand a straight-edge razor._

_“A close shave will do fine…” he whispered. He gripped the razor tightly in his hands. He made a move for the detective’s throat._

_The detective turned. Next to her was a tray of medical instruments. She grabbed for the scalpel and stabbed it into the surgeon’s right temple. The surgeon gasped and dropped the razor, unable to do much more than shudder._

_The detective crawled out of the chair from underneath the frozen surgeon. She stood up, brushed herself off, and turned back to look. After a moment, she gripped her hand around the scalpel, still imbedded in the surgeon’s head, and tore it out._

_The surgeon ceased shuddering, and finally collapsed over the chair, blood oozing out of his head._

_There was a knock at a door._

_The detective turned around. A woman in a red suit was standing a few feet away. Her face showed an intense sadness._

_“Would you like some coffee?” she asked. She held up her hand. In it she held what appeared to be a slug, writhing around in her grip._

_She raised the slug above her head and parted her lips. With a tight squeeze, she let the slime from the slug drip into her open mouth and down her gullet._

_She wiped her mouth. “Wakey wakey,” she whispered. She snapped her fingers._

* * *

**Date: ??? Time: ???  
Location: ???**

The hood was abruptly removed.

After shaking the sweat off her face, Anna did a quick check of her current situation.

Injuries? Just the nose. Unpleasant, but probably not life-threatening. There was a line of dried blood running down her neck and into her shirt. A shower would probably be needed.

Surroundings? It was difficult to tell. There was a blinding light shining down right above her head, presumably an overhead lamp. The room smelled of overripe plums.

She was still a little dizzy from the blow to her face, but she could tell she had been tied to a chair—her hands were bound to the armrest, and her feet were tied together.

“Hello?” she called out. “Anybody home?”

The air in front of her erupted in a blast of red clouds and what looked like petals. From out of the mist appeared a masked figure.

The mask was plaster, with three holes cut in, one for breathing, the other two for eyesight—none of these were large enough to identify anything notable about the figure, not even the color of the pupils. Sticking out of the mask were a set of antlers, purely decoration, Anna guessed. The figure was wearing a fancy tuxedo, white gloves and all.

“Good evening, Detective Anna DeWitt.” (His voice was muffled, but it was definitely a male voice.) “I hope your experience was not entirely unpleasant.”

“I’ve had worse,” Anna replied. “Who are you?”

“Think of me as a warning. I wish to speak with you about your involvement in the Brigid Tenenbaum suicide.”

“Yeah, well, join the club. As long as you promise not to kill me today, I’m game for any discussion.”

“Fair enough. Detective, I’m sure you are aware of Jeremiah Fink’s connection to the case.”

“His name might’ve come up. So what? You one of his goonies? I bet you’re the people who gave me that threatening phone call earlier today.”

There was a long silence.

Anna blinked. “...erm, I take it it wasn't you?"

The masked figure, whom Anna decided in her head to dub “Antlers,” simply shook his head. “I suppose this is in far worse territory than we expected. That was someone closer to the truth than us. Trust me, if I were connected with Fink the way you think he is connected with this case, you would be lying in an alleyway with your throat slit open.”

“Odd choice of words.”

“Detective DeWitt, you are diving into territory that could very easily get you killed. Those who have hired us…they don’t want that.”

“I appreciate their concern. You’re not with Sullivan, are you?”

“Stop guessing and listen. Tenenbaum’s death was very likely ordered by someone in the Board of Improvement. Someone with connections. Someone very powerful.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?”

“Because you of all people should know how dangerous the Board of Improvement can be.”

Anna squinted her eyes. “What are you saying?”

“We aren’t going to ask again,” Antlers growled. He raised a knife ominously. “We can’t guarantee your safety.”

He made a sudden slash. Anna shut her eyes briefly, but upon realizing she felt no new injuries, she opened them. Antlers had cut the ropes holding her arms to the chair.

“Stay away from the Tenenbaum murder.” And in a flash of red, he vanished into thin air.

After hesitating for a second, Anna leaned forward and untied the ropes around her legs.

She stood up and shook herself out. She had been in that position for at least half an hour, and she was a little sore. But as she stretched out her leg, her foot kicked a Styrofoam cup that had been lying discarded on the floor.

 _Wait a minute._ She knelt down and picked it up. There were chew marks around the edges, and some brown spots at the bottom: whoever had used this A) chewed their cups and B) used it to drink both coffee and whiskey.

Instinctively, Anna grabbed the top of the overhead lamp and swung the beam around the room.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” she declared, recognizing the desk, the couch, the coffee maker, and the overall pigsty of her office.

There was a locked box sitting on the desk, one she had never seen before. Next to it was a key.

Puzzled, Anna took the key and opened the box. Inside, on a bed of foam, was her data oculus, undamaged and newly polished. She put it on. “Alec?”

_“Ah, Detective. I was wondering when someone would let me out of there.”_

“Why didn’t you call the police or transfer to the main house computer?”

_“A lead box, I’m afraid. I could not get a signal out. Shall I notify them now?”_

The door abruptly opened and closed, with no sign of a person using it.

“Don’t bother,” Anna muttered. “I don’t want Sullivan on my back again. Anyway, I doubt they left any sign they were here.”

What was really bothering her was something Antlers had said. _Stay away from the Tenenbaum **murder**._


	8. Lab Rats

The phone rang as Anna was driving her speeder down the highway. Hesitantly, she answered it. “Hello?”

_“Hey, Anna, it’s Vivian.”_

“Oh, hey, we’re still on for tonight, right?”

_“Of course. I just spoke with Daisy, she wanted to know if you made any progress.”_

“Sort of. Broke into Tenenbaum’s apartment last night.”

_“No kidding? What’d you find?”_

“Just some stuff about some sort of substance called ‘ADAM.’ Apparently they were experimenting on it at Fink Eugenics downtown.”

_“Is that where you’re headed?”_

“Yup.”

_“I can get you access if you like, Fitzroy has connections—“_

“It’s fine. I’ll just do it the old-fashioned way.”

_“Which is…?”_

Anna smirked. “Sneaking in. By the way, tell Fitzroy that I now know that Tenenbaum was definitely murdered.”

Vivian was silent for a moment. _“How?”_

“Well, to be honest, I’m not so sure myself. I only know is that someone on the Board of Improvement is responsible.”

_“Fink?”_

“I don’t know. But I think I’m about to find out.”

* * *

Fink Eugenics, a subset of the Fink Corporation, was the foremost scientific research company in Ascension. It had developed various treatments for afflictions such as HIV/AIDS, Alzheimer’s, and even brain disorders such as depression. Anna herself regularly took Exxacor, an anti-anxiety medication patented by Fink Eugenics.

But even a seemingly benevolent company had the potential to go south. It was just a question of the higher-ups thinking they could abuse their power for the greater good.

* * *

**Wednesday, December 17, 2369, 10:28 AM  
Fink Eugenics Downtown**

Field trips, sponsored by the various medical schools, regularly toured the facility. They were very easy to crash: the tour guides would mistake the perpetrator for just another student; teachers had so many students they would not notice one more that didn’t belong; and the students couldn’t give a shit if someone they didn’t know was among them.

Having this knowledge on her side, Anna parked her car in front of a meter that someone had spray-painted the word “BALLS” on, and quietly hid herself among the gaggle of students on the pre-med track. It was easy enough to make her look like one of them—she tied her hair in a ponytail, got rid of her hat and her trenchcoat, and stuck to wearing a hoodie, a t-shirt, and jeans. Not wanting to attract attention, she kept her data oculus in her pocket.

“Welcome to Fink Eugenics!” shouted the tour guide, a thirty-something year old fellow who looked like he had swallowed an entire pharmacy’s supply of antidepressants. He probably had. “We pride ourselves on making a better tomorrow today! This tour will take you through the main bulk of the facility, where you will get to see science in the making!”

 _Does he think we’re all in preschool?_ Anna thought to herself. Judging by the uncomfortable shifting among the crowd, this was a universal thought.

“If you will all follow me, we can begin our tour in the main lobby.”

The group shuffled through the door. Anna followed, making sure to keep her head down.

* * *

The tour eventually entered a very white room, with tables covered in test tubes and syringes.

“This is our main testing facility,” the tour guide explained. “The scientists are all out on break, but this is where the magic happens. Testing on live creatures is not only inhumane, but unnecessary. At Fink Eugenics we pride ourselves on humane testing methods, all for the strict purpose of a better tomorrow for the Ascension public.”

“Did he say humane or human?” one of the students whispered to another.

Anna looked around. The Fink Eugenics Downtown location took up two city blocks. There was absolutely no chance this was the only testing facility.

At the back of this room was a door with a card-lock. Something told her this was the only part of the room not for show.

“Let’s move along,” the tour guide called out, moving towards a different door. “We are going to take a look at the manufacturing labs.”

The crowd of students started moving. Anna quietly crouched down next to a table, hiding her from the rest of the group as they left the room.

Once the room was empty, she stood up and pulled Tenenbaum’s ID from her pocket. She walked over to the door and slid the ID through the card reader.

Nothing happened.

Of course. After her death, they must have deactivated her card. This was completely useless.

The door _clicked_. Immediately realizing the danger, Anna dived underneath a table.

Looking up, she saw the door open, and a female scientist step out, one her way to the exit.

“Sorry, lover,” Anna muttered pulling out two plugs and sticking them in her ears. “You’re my ticket in there.” She raised her arm and hit a small button on her cuffs.

A slight beeping noise filled the room. The scientist stopped, puzzled. Then she fainted, her glasses falling off as she fell. Anna caught them before they could hit the ground and break.

She climbed out from under the table and put on the scientist’s labcoat, adding the glasses with a bit of flourish. Then she took them off for a moment, then put them on.

“You weren’t even wearing real glasses,” she said with disdain, sticking a finger through the empty frame. She inspected the ID card hanging from her lanyard. “Still, thank you, Dr. Langford,” she digressed, putting the lanyard over her own neck. “Your sacrifice is not in vain.”

Anna quietly nudged the body under the table before heading for the door, sliding the key card in, and going on through.

* * *

Finding herself in a deserted hallway, Anna put the data oculus on.

“Okay, Alec. Let’s find room A33.”

The data oculus beeped. _“Room A33 is located two floors down. Sector A, level -3, room 3. Elevator is located twenty paces to your left.”_

“Aaaaaaaaand…left,” Anna said as she dramatically turned to her left.

_“Was that really necessary?”_

“No, but it was a lot of fun.”

The elevator opened up to reveal two spectacled scientists. They both watched silently as Anna pressed a button and the doors closed.

“Doctor,” Anna said to one.

“Doctor,” he replied.

“Doctor,” Anna said to the other.

“Doctor,” she replied.

“Doctors,” Anna said to both.

“Doctor,” both said to her.

“Well, glad we had this little chat,” Anna said, getting off the elevator on the second floor down.

The two scientists watched as the door closed behind her.

“What the hell was that about?” one of them asked.

“I don’t know,” the other replied. “She seemed nice.”

* * *

On the wall opposite the elevator doors was a sign. An arrow pointed to the left, saying “Room A31-39.” An arrow pointed to the right, saying, “Room B31-39.”

Something was off about this hallway.

The wall directly in front of her was the first thing that struck Anna as odd. It wasn’t white and clean-cut like those from above. It was a very damp shade of cement, something you would expect to see in a prison and not in a research facility. There was a dark water stain at the part where the wall met the floor, which Anna prayed to god was not a urine stain.

This thought in general made her wonder about the building. Directly beneath the city of Ascension was the Transportation and Sanitation Department, a network of tunnels and pneumatic lines that serviced everything: trash reclamation, sewage, the like. For this reason, it was nearly impossible to build down below surface level, and certainly not beyond the Department level—otherwise you would be out in the bare cold of space. And yet, the quality of the walls, the odd smell, the dark pipes running just below the ceiling…it was like they’d reclaimed a portion of the sanitation levels.

“Doctor,” a male doctor said, passing behind Anna.

“Doctor,” Anna replied. She waited until he was out of sight before turning to her left.

The sign’s directions led her to a long hallway with doors on both sides. Each door was marked with a red sign with white lettering: “A39,” “A36,” “A32”…

Anna peeked into room A33. Finding no one in sight, she let herself in.

The room’s aesthetic matched that of the dreary-looking hallways. Sitting on a metal table at the center of the room were a scalpel, pliers, a knife, a straight-edge razor, a tape recorder, and a vial of a green liquid. To the far right of the room was a safe, which Anna noticed looked remarkably similar to the one in Tenenbaum’s office.

Anna picked up the tape recorder and pressed play.

Out came the voice of Jeremiah Fink himself. _“Science is one frustrating thing,”_ he sighed. _“You can’t put a product out on the market without testing it on a live subject. It’s for the safety of the customer. But in the glory days you could get away with doing it on monkeys and sheep. How do you expect to hold your legitimacy to the public without being slandered by them?”_ He paused for a moment. _“Well, I suppose animal testing is a considerable waste of the city’s food supply, so that’s down the drain anyway. Now, human testing…it seems to me that the general public only cares about the safety of animals. Fellow humans? Well, I suppose anyone who mistreats a homeless person is considered a scoundrel. But overall, no one cares about the degenerates, the poverty-stricken, the criminals. If they disappeared, who would be there to care? That’s where we come in.”_

“Why does everyone have to be a cynic?” Anna muttered as she slipped the recorder into her pocket. “For that matter, why are the cynics always right?”

 _“Because nobody believes an optimist,”_ Alec replied. _“Just look at what happened to Jesus.”_

Anna picked up the vial of liquid. Was this the mysterious substance Tenenbaum spoke of?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door handle turning. Quickly, she made a dive underneath the table.

She saw two sets of legs enter the room. One was clad in a typical business suit: the other was wearing a hospital gown.

“How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Meltzer?” the first man asked. Anna recognized the voice as that of Jeremiah Fink’s.

“Better, actually,” Meltzer replied. “Those tonics Dr. Steinman gave me did wonders. None of the woozy side effects.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Are you ready for the next set of tests?”

Meltzer took a moment.

“Remember, all the money goes to your daughter’s education…”

“Of course, Mr. Fink, I knew that. Just a little…worried I might do something drastic again.”

“Well, I’ll be on hand the whole time just in case. Just walk this way.”

Fink led Meltzer to a door, which Anna realized led into a small padded chamber with an observation window providing inhabitants in this room a clear view.

After locking Meltzer inside, Fink turned to the table. “Where’s that vial?” he wondered aloud. He turned to look at the safe. Instead of turning the dial as Anna had expected, he pulled out a key from his pocket, literally pulled the dial off the door, and inserted the key into a lock. He opened the safe, but looked disappointed, and he closed the safe.

Anna remembered that Tenenbaum’s apartment had a similar looking safe.

 _“Is that what this red key does?”_ she wondered, pulling out the ring of keys.

Too late, she realized Fink had heard the jiggling of the keys and was now looking around the room suspiciously.

Knowing she was about to be discovered, Anna trusted her instincts and pretended to fall asleep.

Fink looked down to find what he believed to be a female scientists snoozing under the table. “Hey!” he shouted. “What are you doing here?”

Anna feigned waking up. “Huh? What…oh, Mr. Fink!” She made a scramble to get up and banged her head. “Sorry!” she stammered as she climbed out from the table. “I kind of had a rough night, I needed the rest.”

Fink shook his head. “Expect a disciplinary hearing, Dr…Langford. Hmm.” He pursed his lips, staring at the nametag.

Anna held her breath. What if he knew what the real Langford looked like?

Fink shrugged. “You look good today, doctor. New haircut?”

“…yeah.” _Dr. Langford has shorter hair than me, dumbass._

“I like it, makes you look twenty years younger. Do you think you could fetch another vial of the ADAM? I can’t seem to find the one that was here.”

 _So it **is** ADAM._ “I’m afraid that’s a little out of my way, Mr. Fink. I was heading upstairs.”

“Oh. No matter. Just, don’t let me catch you sleeping on the job again.” Fink reached into his pocket and pulled out a radio. “Hey, Frank?”

_“Yeah?”_

“Could you bring up another vial of ADAM?”

_“…Jerry, we don’t have a lot of the stuff, okay? I don’t want you wasting it.”_

“Yeah, yeah, all that, I get it. Just bring it up.”

_“Alright, fine. But I don’t think we should be doing these tests if we have to deal with this every time one of the subjects goes bananas.”_

Fink looked like he wanted to strangle someone. “Will you—“ He looked up at Anna. “Shoo,” he whispered.

“Right away.” Anna started to make her way to the door.

_“Hang on, is someone up there?”_

“It’s just Dr. Langford. She was leaving.”

_“Hey, as long as she’s there, keep her. You’ve needed a lab assistant ever since Tenenbaum kicked the bucket. I’ll bring up the vial in a jiff.”_

“Yes sir, Mr. Fontaine sir,” Fink said sarcastically. He sighed as he lowered the radio. “To think I have to collaborate with his oversight,” he commented. “You know he’s only here because Comstock wants eyes and ears from the Board of Improvement that aren’t mine, right?”

“I’d expect as much,” Anna replied. And she really did. She walked over to the observation window and looked in. “How long as he been at this??”

“Since the start of the testing,” Fink replied. “Almost six months. Poor Brigid. She had her doubts about this, these experiments. We spent months trying to convince her otherwise, but…now it’s too late.”

“Guess it is. You know, she once told me a story about a science class in college. Apparently, the AI teaching the class made a factual error with regards to biology, so she corrected it. The AI refused to believe it was incorrect, and when she proved it made an error, he went bananas and flung his robotic body out the window.”

Fink laughed. “Really?”

“Yeah. You remember, right? She was a big part of why science now has a more human factor up here.”

“I suppose that explains that. Funny, she never told me that story. Were you two very close?”

Anna shrugged. “In a sense.”

The door knocked. “Fink, it’s me! Open up!” Fontaine’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Here comes Captain Chaos,” Fink sighed. “Be right there!”

As Fink walked over to the door, Alec chirped in Anna’s ear. _“I suppose an overnight listen of Fitzroy’s audio tapes does wonders.”_

“Yeah,” Anna muttered. “Yeah, it does.”

Fink opened the door, and there stood a tall, bald man with a mustache. He looked vaguely annoyed.

“I got your ADAM,” he grumbled, handing Fink a vial.

“Your help is greatly appreciated,” Fink said.

Fontaine looked in. “Morning, Dr. Langford,” he said casually.

“Morning.” _These businessmen-types…so ignorant. And arrogant. Ignorant and arrogant. Maybe that’s why they sometimes name evil people in movies “-ant.” Why am I still talking to myself?_

Fontaine straightened his back. “Need anything else?”

“No, we’re fine. Leave.” Fink slammed the door. Fontaine’s shadow stood in the tinted window for a few seconds before giving an annoyed slump of the shoulders and walking away.

* * *

“He took Tenenbaum’s death the hardest, you know,” Fink mused as he walked over to the table and grabbed a syringe.

“That so? Why?”

Fink stared at Anna somewhat incredulously. “Wasn’t it obvious? They were lovers!”

Anna nearly choked on her spit, which she had been in the process of swallowing. “What?”

“I shouldn’t joke about it, it wasn’t a very pleasant relationship,” Fink shrugged as he inserted the syringe into the vial and extracted some of the liquid. “Maybe she liked the company during experiments. He did watch a lot of them.”

There was another knock on the door.

“What now?” Fink asked as he went over and opened it.

Fontaine was there again. “How ‘bout I watch this one today? You know, just to make sure everything goes the way Brigid liked it.”

“But of course.” Fink opened the door wider with some disdain. “In you go.” He looked over at Anna. “Say, Dr. Langford, could you bring the cart into the testing room for me? I’d like to have a chat with Mr. Fontaine here.”

“Of course, Mr. Fink.” Anna looked at the small cart, loaded with shelves for items. “Will you be needing anything other than the syringe, sir?”

Fink looked annoyed. “At least put some of the weapons on there. They’re the equipment, you know.”

Anna grabbed at the various weapons from the table and dumped them into the cart. She had an idea of what was about to happen based on Tenenbaum’s writings, but she wondered if it would be better for her to witness everything in person.

Mr. Meltzer sat in a chair, looking kind of nervous. There was a long scar that ran across the front of his neck. His wrists were covered in similar scars, some looking newer than others.

Meltzer looked up. “Who are you?”

Anna cleared her throat. “I’m Dr. Langford, I will be Mr. Fink’s assistant for today.”

Meltzer squinted his eyes. “You’re not Dr. Langford,” he said in an accusatory tone. “Dr. Langford is a lot older than you.”

“I just cut my hair.”

“That’s bullshit, she has shorter hair than you. Who are you? What do you want?”

Anna bit her lip. This was not going in the best of directions.

“You can’t fool me. Hey, Mr. Fink! Mr. Fontaine!” Meltzer shouted out. “This is—“ he was silenced as Anna covered his mouth.

“Listen carefully,” she whispered. “You’re right, I’m not Dr. Langford. I’m a private detective, hired to investigate the death of Dr. Brigid Tenenbaum. Do you remember Brigid Tenenbaum?”

Meltzer nodded nervously.

“I’m following up on leads to why she was killed, and the leads seem to end up here, at this facility. I’m not here to harm you, I’m not here to kill you, I am just trying to catch a killer. Can you handle that?”

Meltzer nodded again.

“Then keep your trap shut.”

There was a knock on the window. Anna looked up to see Fink and Fontaine staring at her. “What’s going on in there?” Fink asked.

“Mr. Meltzer was having cold feet,” Anna replied, lowering her hand. “I was just reassuring him.”

“She’s very helpful,” Mr. Meltzer called out, playing along. “Let’s get started.”

Fink looked pleased. “But of course. Dr. Langford, would you mind staying in the test room for the experiment? I want to try something new today.”

Anna was taken aback. She exchanged glances with Meltzer, before shrugging. “Of course, Mr. Fink.”

“Good girl. Frank, lock the door.”

“I’m not your lab partner,” Fontaine muttered as he shut the door to the test room.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” Anna whispered.

Meltzer could only look at her gravely. “I’m afraid that’s out of my hands now.”

Fink tapped a button on a desk, and the sound of microphone feedback filled the room. _“Okay, Test 54, Room A33, Fink Eugenics Downtown. Test facilitators are Jeremiah Fink and Frank Fontaine, with assistance by Dr. Julia Langford. Today’s test will involve analyzing subject Mark Meltzer’s reactions to damage by another person. Dr. Langford, please inject the ADAM into Mr. Meltzer’s bloodstream.”_

Anna picked up the syringe and walked towards Meltzer. But then she stopped. “Uh, Mr. Fink?”

_“Yes, Doctor?”_

“Where do I…where should I…”

Fink looked annoyed. _“What is with you this morning, Doctor? Upper arm, away from the muscle.”_

Anna swallowed as she stepped forward and lifted up Meltzer’s sleeve. She carefully moved the syringe over a spot she decided was the insertion point.

_“Dr. Langford, in your haste to get this over with, you seem to have forgotten to clean the insertion point with an alcohol pad.”_

“Right, I was…” Anna grabbed an alcohol pad and tore it open. “Going to…do that.”

“Real smooth, detective,” Meltzer muttered as Anna wiped his arm.

“I’m doing the best I can,” Anna replied. She raised the syringe. “Hold still.” Taking a deep breath, she stabbed the needle into the arm. Meltzer made a slight gulping noise as Anna pressed down on the syringe, inserting the ADAM deep into his bloodstream. She pulled out the needle, grabbed an adhesive bandage from the cart, and placed it on Meltzer’s arm.

_“Ooh, pampering the subject today?”_

_“Enough already, Jerry. We’re not animals, you know.”_

_“Alright, alright. Mr. Meltzer, how do you feel?”_

“Fine.”

_“Good, good. Let’s wait a minute. Dr. Langford, let me know when his veins start glowing.”_

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

_“I said let me know when his bloodveins start glowing.”_

Anna was not sure what this meant, despite having been told it twice. But, seeing no alternative, she crouched down and stared at Meltzer’s arm.

It did not take long before she found what she was looking for. “They’re glowing!” she called out. “He’s lighting up like a Christmas tree!” She looked up at Mr. Meltzer to gauge his response.

Something was off. Meltzer was staring blankly at the wall ahead. His face showed no sign of emotion. He was, besides occasionally blinking, completely still.

_“Very good. Mr. Meltzer, can you hear me? Would you kindly nod?”_

Mr. Meltzer nodded.

_“Good. Would you kindly pick up that scalpel?”_

Mr. Meltzer picked up the scalpel.

_“Would you kindly prick your ring finger?”_

Mr. Meltzer raised the scalpel to his left hand and made a slight cut on his ring finger. Anna made note of the wedding ring there.

_“That’s very good Mr. Meltzer. Put the scalpel down, would you kindly.”_

Mr. Meltzer placed the scalpel on the cart.

_“Everything seems in order. Alright, Dr. Langford, would you kindly pick up the knife?”_

Anna picked up the knife from the cart. “Done.”

_“Good. Now, would you kindly make a cut on Mr. Meltzer’s arm?”_

Fontaine started. _“Jerry, what are you doing?”_

_“I’m trying something, Frank.”_

_“But she’s in there with him.”_

_“Now you are just stating the obvious. What are you waiting for Doctor? I can assure you it’s perfectly safe.”_

Anna inspected Meltzer’s face. He showed no sign of acknowledgement towards Fink’s statement.

Deciding it was safe, Anna grabbed Meltzer’s arm and moved the knife towards it. She kept looking up as she did so, but Meltzer remained silent.

Finally, she gripped the knife tight and started to slice it across Meltzer’s arm.

But before she could finish, she felt the knife stop. Looking down, she realized Meltzer had grabbed the blade, stopping her from slicing his arm but also severely cutting his own hand.

Meltzer stared at Anna. His complete lack of emotion slowly gave way to anger.

_“Good, good. Mr. Meltzer, would you kindly defend yourself?”_

Meltzer let go of the knife and shoved Anna away.

 _“Jerry!”_ Fontaine shouted. _“Shut down the test! She’s not safe in there!”_

_“Not until I get my results.”_

Meltzer grabbed the scissors from the table and ran at Anna. Still holding tight to the knife, Anna dived out of the way as Meltzer went tumbling. After regaining his footing, he turned around to glare at Anna again.

 **“EXPOSE YOUR FRAILTIES TO ME!”** he shouted, before making another dive.

This time, Anna ducked, causing Meltzer to stumble over her body and onto the floor, dropping the scissors in the process.

Meltzer growled, but started to pull himself up. Anna took a brief look at the knife, wondering if she should end him right there. But then she thought about the wedding ring on Meltzer’s arm.

Meltzer stood up. He tilted his head slightly and gritted his teeth. Now weaponless, he charged again.

This time, Anna raised a fist and slammed it straight into Meltzer’s face. The man stumbled, spat out a tooth, then tried to recover. With another punch from Anna, he only managed to let out a pathetic squeal as he toppled over and hit the floor.

 _“Jerry, that’s enough!”_ Fontaine called out.

 _“Alright, fine…”_ Fink sighed. _“That was just getting interesting…”_

Anna stared down at Meltzer. He was out cold. A small amount of blood was streaming from his nose.

The door opened and in walked Jeremiah Fink and Frank Fontaine.

“I must admit…” Fink commented. “I’m impressed. I mean, the test was a complete and utter success, it just didn’t go in the way I expected it to.”

“You wanted her dead, huh?” Fontaine rolled his eyes. He patted Anna on the back. “You okay, Doctor?”

“I’ve had better days,” Anna breathed.

“I think it’s time for round 2,” Fink declared. “We’ll wait for Mr. Meltzer to wake up—“

“JERRY!” Fontaine shouted. “I think we should let Dr. Langford go home.”  
Fink looked annoyed. “She already fell asleep on the job. Why should we?”

“Jerry, don’t make me report this to the board.”

Fink sighed. “Fine. Dr. Langford, you can go home for the day. But no more sleeping on the job!”

Anna straightened her coat. “Thank you.”

Meltzer made a slight growling noise.

The three stared at him, startled.

Meltzer pushed himself off the ground, and turned to stare Fink in the face. He spat out another tooth, before letting out a scream.

“MOVE!” Fontaine shouted. He grabbed Fink and Anna by the collars and dragged them out of the room, before trying to slam the door.

Meltzer, however, wasn’t ready to give up. He slammed himself against the door, facing off against Fontaine, who was still trying to shut it.

“Help me here!” Fontaine shouted.

Anna ran forward and pushed her own body against the door. After a lengthy struggle, they finally slammed it shut. Fontaine quickly bolted the door.

“Oof!” he shouted, stepping back. “He won’t be getting out anytime soon.”

There was a loud clang, and part of the door suddenly protruded out. Another clang, and yet another part. Finally, the clanging stopped, and Meltzer reappeared in the observation window, breathing heavily.

Fontaine pulled out his radio. “Security! We need backup! Room A33!”

_“On it!”_

Fink looked at Anna. “You were leaving?”

“Right away, Mr. Fink.”

Anna quietly left the room, leaving Fink and Fontaine to stare into the test room as Meltzer banged his head against the window.

* * *

The elevator trip was relatively uneventful.

When the doors opened to the ground floor, Anna caught a brief glimpse of a crowd of security guards running for the stairwell, no doubt on their way to subdue Mark Meltzer.

She emerged back in the lab. Noticing no tour group was around, she crouched down and shook Dr. Langford awake.

“What…” the doctor looked surprised. “Who are you?”

“Some call me a songbird,” Anna shrugged. “Sleeping on the job, doc…tsk tsk. Well, just so you know, you’re free to go home.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Fink and Fontaine said you can have the day off.” She took off her glasses, the lanyard, and the labcoat. “You’ll need these. Have a nice day.”

Langford, too dazed and confused to really question anything, took her items and climbed out from under the tables. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“I got a question though…why do you wear fake glasses?”

Langford shrugged. “They make me look younger.” With a smile, she left the room.

Anna looked around, making sure no one was there to hear her. “No they don’t,” she whispered.

* * *

After retrieving her car, Anna made a stop at the Ascension Institute of Technology campus, where Sally was waiting for her.

Sally turned the vial over a few times. “So this is what my mother was working on, huh?”

“Right up to her death. Something that heals severe injuries.”

“And apparently drives people insane,” Sally added. “Quite the substance. I can imagine the things Fink would do with this.”

“Any idea what it is?”

“Well, I’m no scientist…” Sally shrugged. “But I’m friends with a TA in the chemistry department. She can run some tests.”

“Thanks.” Anna got up to leave.

“Wait a minute.”

“Yeah?”

“Is Fink one of your suspects?”

Anna considered this. “He does have quite the ruthless edge. But I’m not making any firm conclusions until I have more evidence.”

“Where are you gonna find that evidence? All of your leads go back to that lab. My mom worked there, Fink worked there, and they had this stuff.”

Anna looked over at the campus bulletin board. Standing there was a person with red hair, pinning something up. The person in question looked at Anna, nodded their head towards the board, and then walked away.

“…detective?” Sally spoke up.

“Hmm?”

“Where are you going to get the evidence?”

Anna walked towards the bulletin board. The person with red hair had posted an announcement for Space Movie Night, happening that Friday. The main image was an artist’s rendering of the moon’s surface.

Anna looked back at Sally. “I need to go to the source.”

* * *

When Vivian Monroe walked into DeWitt Investigations at 7 PM, the great detective was leaning backwards in her chair, headphones covering her ears, eating a burrito.

“This how you present yourself on dates?” Vivian asked loudly.

Anna quickly took off her headphones and put the burrito down. “I’m nothing if not a slob. Throw me that box of tissues.”

Vivian picked up the box and threw it across the room. It landed in the hands of the detective, who proceeded to take a tissue out and wipe off her hands.

“Right, that’s settled. What did Fitzroy have to say?”

“She wasn’t surprised,” Vivian replied. “Only someone on the Board of Improvement could pull something like this off.” She frowned. “I’m sorry, why am I here?”

“Have a seat, Viv.”

Vivian sat in the chair opposite Anna’s desk. “What’s this all about?”

Anna reached into her desk, pulled out a tablet, and handed it to Vivian. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, watching as Vivian read the article cued up on the tablet. “Brigid Tenenbaum was probably murdered. Why?”

“She did something someone higher-up didn’t like, so they offed her.”

“Right. Question is, what did she do? Whatever it was, she was about to tell Fitzroy about it. It’s something significant enough that someone sent me a threatening phone call, and it involves something big enough that a bunch of inexplicably invisible people kidnapped me and locked me in my own office.”

“…inexplicably invisible?” Vivian asked, looking more confused than inquisitive.

Anna ignored the question. “Today I paid a little visit to Fink Eugenics. They were doing some experiments there with an odd substance called ADAM. Apparently it’s a mind control chemical, but I don’t know why they insist on experimenting on something so apparently dangerous.”

“How dangerous?”

“Well, they got their test subject to slit his own throat open. And when they had me try to mutilate his arm, he went nuts and tried to kill me.”

“Well, you’re standing here, so it must not have been very effective.”

“Don’t be so naïve. It took all my wits to stop him from getting the upper hand. That’s not how most of my fights go.”

Vivian snickered. “Yeah, Fitzroy told me about how you put a number on the Club Kashmir owners.”

“I think they learned their lesson.” Anna picked up the burrito and had another bite. “Getting back on-topic, this ADAM is powerful stuff.”

“And it’s connected to Brigid Tenenbaum and Colony 12?”

Anna nodded. “Tenenbaum’s got a whole hard drive filled with information about Colony 12 and this substance. And if she was killed for what happened on Colony 12, then I think we’re dealing with a massive conspiracy. Something happened on Colony 12, something with the ADAM, something that turned a married average father into a thoughtless maniac.”

Vivian cleared her throat. “You know in some circles fathers can turn out to be thoughtless m—“

“ _Not my point_. Our next step is obvious.”

“Oh?”

“We need to go to where it all started. Where the events that led to Brigid Tenenbaum’s murder took place.”

“Meaning…?”

“We need to go to Colony 12.”


	9. Our Benefactors

Going to the moon for Ascension is like visiting the Hamptons for the New York City people reading this.

Going to the moon for Ascension is like visiting Orlando for the Florida people reading this.

Going to the moon for Ascension is like visiting Venice Beach for the California people reading this.

Going to the moon for Ascension is like going basically anywhere that’s warmer than Chicago for the Chicago people reading this.

Regardless, the average Ascension citizen thinks of the moon as a vacation stop. But it is also home to various mining colonies, looking for precious minerals that fetch a fortune back on Earth.

* * *

_“Hello, Detective.”_

“I’m not generally one to hallucinate, but I’m pretty sure I saw you on campus.”

_“I see you took your time contacting me.”_

“I need to do some thinking. Where can we meet?”

_“The Watched Clock Diner in an hour. Bring your friend.”_

* * *

**Wednesday, December 17, 2369, 9:32 PM  
Somewhere on Highway 14**

Anna stayed behind the wheel of the speeder while Vivian sat shotgun, the security footage from Colony 12 playing on a loop on a holographic screen in front of her.

“This pretty boy had to be one of the miners,” Vivian observed.

Anna glanced over. “That style of movement…Mark Meltzer, when he was all psycho, danced like that.”

“Must be the ADAM,” Vivian suggested. “Maybe it attacks the immune system or the brain.”

“This is where Tenenbaum’s notes on it would have come in handy,” Anna groaned. “But as far as her daughter’s concerned, she didn’t keep them at home.” She frowned. “I should’ve done some more looking around at Fink Eugenics, Tenenbaum might’ve kept stuff there.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Any observations she had on the substance were valuable for any sort of research. Seeing they’re still experimenting, the notes are probably now in the possession of everyone working on the project. How long ‘til the kid’s friend finishes her tests?”

“She says she’ll have the results by tomorrow.”

“And we’re going to Colony 12 in the meantime.”

“Yes.”

“You haven’t been very clear on how we’re gonna do that.”

The speeder came to a stop in front of the Watched Clock diner. “I have my ways.”

* * *

A friendly waiter with a nametag that read “Jazz Jr.” greeted them. “You must be Detective DeWitt,” he said.

“Yes…” Anna looked around. “Where’s Hiro?”

“Oh, he had to run out to get some cash for the register. But he told me to get you some coffee and a waffle with extra whipped cream, and that your friend was over in the corner booth.”

Vivian tapped Anna’s shoulder and pointed towards the dimly lit corner booth, where a shadowy figure sat, quietly drinking from a cup.

“Now, about this coffee,” Jazz Jr. said slowly. “Would you like it black, or with sugar? Milk? Cream?”

Anna looked at Jazz. “Sugar and cream.”

“Excellent. I’ll bring everything out in a minute.” Jazz then disappeared into the kitchen.

“Sweet kid,” Vivian mused. “He ever serve you before?”

“Never seen him in my life,” Anna replied. “Come on.”

They wandered on over to the booth and took their seats. The person across had in the table a teapot with the label of a Twining’s Earl Grey sticking out, a bowl of sugar cubes, a porcelain creamer, and a cup.

“Anna DeWitt,” the person observed, picking up the cup and taking a sip. “How nice of you to join us, songbird.”

Anna didn’t respond immediately. She just blinked a few times.

“Who is this?” Vivian asked.

Anna reached into her pocket and handed Vivian a blood-stained card.

“Hm.” Vivian put the card down. “Well, pleased to meet you, Ms. Cuternoll.”

Anna jumped. “What?”

“The pleasure is mine, Ms. Monroe,” Ms. Cuternoll replied. “So, Detective. I hope you are not finding your investigation too challenging.”

Anna wasn’t paying attention. She was looking around the diner, looking for something.

“Is something wrong?” Vivian asked.

Anna stopped looking around and looked right back at Ms. Cuternoll. Then she looked at Vivian. “Can I have that card back for a minute?”

Vivian looked at her strangely, then handed back the card.

**Sadie Cuternoll  
8212007**

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Anna pocketed the card. She looked at Vivian. “Stop ogling me, it makes me uncomfortable.”

A plate of waffles with whipped cream appeared in front of Anna, along with a cup of coffee, some sugar packets, and a cream saucer. “Will you also be having anything, ma’am?” the waiter asked, looking at Vivian.

“I’m…I’m good. Thank you, Jazz.”

Jazz gave a slight nod of the head and returned to the front of the diner.

“Imagine his job,” Sadie Cuternoll mused. “He smiles all the time, when in truth he couldn’t care less about what his customers do. That’s why the great detective likes being served by Hiro. She at least trusts him to be her friendly ear.”

“That the truth?” Vivian whispered to Anna.

“I have no comment on the matter,” was the reply.

Vivian bit her lip. “So…you’re Deep Throat, huh?”

Ms. Cuternoll scoffed. “If you’re looking for a government leak, you’ll find my allegiances lie at a slightly lower level than you’ve been led to believe.” She slid a cream-colored folder onto the table.

“What’s this?” Anna asked, placing it in a position so that both she and Vivian could look at the contents.

“This…” Ms. Cuternoll opened up the folder, revealing a typed-up sheet of paper, a black metallic card, and a set of blueprints. “Is your ticket to the moon.”

Anna picked up the sheet. It was step-by-step instructions on how to slip past the Thinker AI’s radar and get to Colony 12.

“You could spend a week exploring the site,” Ms. Cuternoll explained. She pushed forward the blueprints. “But you can get the most of your visit here.”

She pointed to a building marked “GEOLOGY ANALYSIS.”

“All specimens found in Colony 12 are processed in this building. Whatever Tenenbaum was looking into, you’ll find it there. And you’ll need this.” She picked up the black card. “This is a standard issue access card. You will need it essentially to do everything in that building. Open a door? Black card. Turn on the lights? Black card.”

Anna took the card and turned it over in her hands. “So it’s like a hotel card. Use the exercise room? Card. Go to the pool? Card. Take a shit? Card.”

Anna would have continued, but she was silenced by Sadie Cuternoll’s steady gaze. So she just pocketed the card.

“Colony 12’s a restricted zone, there’s no way the Ascension Quarantine Control’s gonna let one of the rented shuttles get past,” Vivian commented.

Sadie Cuternoll smiled patiently. “Yes, that would generally be the case, wouldn’t it? I’m sure you will find your way around it.” She looked directly into Anna’s eye. “You do have a habit of working your way through difficult situations, Elizabeth. Breaking into a dead woman’s apartment. Sneaking into Fink Eugenics.”

“I was paid to do my job,” Anna replied. “When I have a job, I see to the bitter end.” She looked over at Vivian. “You’re ogling me again.”

Vivian turned towards Ms. Cuternoll. “You’re obviously a very powerful woman,” she said. “I’m surprised I’ve never heard of you.”

Ms. Cuternoll looked right back. She did not look particularly pleased. “Perhaps it was better when you hadn’t.” She looked over at Anna. “Be careful with this one, songbird. She, too, does what it takes to get a job done.”

“Perfect pairing,” Anna shrugged. “Like lockstock and barrel.”

Vivian Monroe and Sadie Cuternoll maintained eye contact for about ten more seconds.

Anna cleared her throat. “Vivian, go get the car started. I need to have a chat with our mutual benefactor.”

Vivian left, though not without some reluctance.

Anna DeWitt and Sadie Cuternoll remained silent for a little while longer.

“Why do you insist on fucking with me?”

No response.

“I’ve been working my ass off on this investigation, chasing up something that really goes beyond anything your friendly neighborhood detective should be able to access. You could have gone to someone downtown, someone who’s done more with their life than a college undergrad with an alcohol problem. You singled me out.”

“And you’re asking why?”

“No. I’m asking how. How do you know so much about me?”

Sadie Cuternoll smiled. This was what she had been waiting for.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that bit there. You called me ‘Elizabeth.’ You shouldn’t know about that. Everything about me was classified. _She_ made sure of it. If there was a leak—“

“There’s been no leak.”

“You know something you really, really shouldn’t.”

“And I know it by my own means. I don’t need a government stooge to get what I want.” Ms. Cuternoll leaned forward. Her expression had gone darker, and the smile had disappeared from her lips. “You would not believe the things I have experienced. I have seen heroes become villains in the blink of an eye. I have seen the destruction of civilizations beyond your wildest imaginations, worlds of incomprehensible wonder that went to hell due to power in the wrong hands. I have heard the screams of the innocents, bleeding out in a desperate bid to hold onto whatever good they still had in their hearts, long-replaced by the ideas of the merciless. _I_ am not your enemy.”

Anna laughed at the ceiling. “To be honest, I’m not even sure I have one. If anything, I have people who want to look out to protect me. First there was my dad, then there was Sullivan, then that Harry Houdini boy, and now, of course, you, and I’m not even sure I can take that for gr—“

“Stop right there.” Ms. Cuternoll looked puzzled. “’Harry Houdini boy’?”

Anna smirked. “That got your attention, didn’t it? So confident you knew everything, yet you didn’t even know about him. Goes around saying I’m getting in too deep, to stay away from the Tenenbaum case, talking about Jeremiah Fink’s connection—“

Ms. Cuternoll slammed her first into the table, silencing Anna and prompting the entire diner to turn and stare at the booth. Her jaw was clenched, and her eyes showed nothing but pure anger.

Anna hesitated. She wasn’t sure what to do next. Finally, she tried to say, “You okay there?”

The reply was quick and succinct. “Shut up.”

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever you’re about to say, just shut up. Don’t even think of saying more.” She got up from the table and made a direct move for the door.

“Hey!” Anna shouted from the table. “I’m not done with you here!”

Ms. Cuternoll stopped at the door and looked back. “Trust me Detective, you are. I’ll see you when you get back.” And with a slam of the door, she was gone.

Anna stared at the front door for a long time. Something was not right about her mysterious benefactor. Ever since she had walked into her office, she had long felt a sense of unease, as if she was being kept from learning something important. But it was a mere feeling, one that could not be backed up with evidence or clues or extensive snooping. She didn’t even know where this woman lived or what her job was.

Anna suddenly became aware the entire diner was staring at her. At first she opened her mouth in attempt to yell them off, but quickly abandoned this course of action. She felt very small with all the eyes pointed in her direction.

The waiter, Jazz, walked over and motioned at everyone to go back to their business. “Is everything alright, ma’am?” he asked.

Anna looked at Jazz, then at the cup of coffee still on the table. She still had not put the sugar and cream in.

With a slight shrug, she grabbed the cup and proceeded to gulp down the black liquid.

Jazz was taken aback. “Erm…would you like anything else?”

Anna slammed the empty cup back on the table. Miraculously, it did not shatter. “Just a box for the waffles, and the check.”

* * *

Anna was quiet on the drive to the shuttle docks.

“Saw a pretty heated discussion going on,” Vivian commented. “What were you arguing about?”

Anna looked at Vivian for a moment, then back at the road. For some reason she felt like driving herself today.

Vivian eyed the box Anna had on her lap. “Hey, uh…can I have a waffle?”

Anna looked at Vivian again, sighed, and handed off the box. Vivian opened it and shoved one of the waffles into her mouth.

“Ish shoggy,” she commented. “You leff fthe whid queem om.”

“Swallow.”

Vivian swallowed. “It’s soggy,” she said clearly. “You left the whipped cream on.” And with that she promptly shoved another waffle into her mouth.

Anna watched the road a little bit more. “Alec, switch to autodrive.” She took her hands off the wheel and pulled her gun out of her holster.

This was a custom-built .357 Magnum, once the choice weapon of one Booker DeWitt. It had been fired only once during this case, and in that particular instance it was a mere demonstration of accuracy to a certain red-haired woman in an evening gown. The gun’s current owner preferred to use her hands. Its previous owner…well, he had a penchant for shutting down situations before they got too dangerous.

“What kind of weapons do you have?” Anna asked, turning to Vivian.

Vivian swallowed the last of the waffle in her mouth before pulling out a bizarrely pink object. “Pocketknife.”

“Okay, we can work with that. Give me that for a second.”

Vivian handed Anna the pocketknife. Anna held it in her open palm for a moment.

“There are two ways you can hold your knife in combat. One is where the blade is pointing downwards.” She demonstrated. “This is for attacks where you’re doing a sort of downward stab, the benefit being you putting your weight into it.” She slashed her arm around a few times downward, and one sideways swing for good manner. “The other position is where the blade points upward.” She turned the knife in her hand until the blade was aimed up.

Vivian took a look. “So a slightly weaker stab, but a better range of motion.”

“Exactly. So this is useful if an attacker is directly on top of you, or you’re stabbing forward.” She handed Vivian the knife. “Any good attack is about wrist and shoulder motion: the wrist for the angle, the shoulder for the strength.”

Vivian closed the pocketknife and put it away. “Your dad taught you this?”

“Nah. Something I picked up. You learn a lot in this profession.”

They kept driving.

“What about the neck?”

“What about it?”

“Could I just grab someone and slit their throat?”

“You could…definitely would be a fast death. I imagine that’s how it was for Dr. Tenenbaum.” Anna shuddered at the thought. “But it would be very messy. And you’d have to really take the victim by surprise. But yeah, that’s effective. Never had a reason to do it myself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Knives are for self-defense. It incapacitates the perp enough for them to never bother anyone again. I don’t stab people to death, it’s not my thing.”

Pause.

“You ever kill anyone?” Vivian asked.

Anna looked out the window. “…never.”

* * *

After parking the speeder in a nearby garage, Anna and Vivian made their way to the shuttle docks. The night cycle for Ascension was in full swing, and the streetlights cast an eerie glow on the ground.

The shuttle docks were busy as usual. Citizens could rent out a craft for a price, which they could use to travel to the moon or to another section of the city.

“40.25,” the clerk at the office said.

Vivian started putting some money on the counter. “Hey, DeWitt,” she called. “You got a quarter or something?”

Anna was not paying attention. She was staring at a sheet of paper posted on the bulletin board, next to an advertisement for something called “The Ascension Theorists.”

The sheet in question read in big friendly letters, “Need a private investigator? Call Booker DeWitt! He’ll get the job done for a cost no matter the cost!” There were a few tabs on the lower part of the sheet with Booker’s name and phone number.

Anna remembered this posting. She was the one who put it up all those years ago. She couldn’t believe it hadn’t been taken down yet.

“Detective!”

“Huh?”

“Quarter. I need a quarter.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Anna pulled out her coin purse, found a quarter, and tossed it to Vivian. “Here.”

“Thanks…” Vivian said, eyeing Anna strangely.

“Okay, you’ll be using Shuttlecraft No. 1912,” the clerk said. “Just head down to the main bay, put on your pressure suit, and we’ll prep you for launch.”

“Right.” Vivian walked over to Anna. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Anna replied. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Colony 12 was officially off-limits to shuttlecrafts and transports. Really, there was nothing stopping you from at least attempting to go there, but the Thinker AI monitored the direction of heat signatures heading to the moon. Someone was bound to notice a shuttle heading to Colony 12.

To rectify this problem, Anna shut down the engines on the shuttle as soon as they had cleared the launch tunnel, essentially using the moon’s gravity to pull them a safe enough distance before she could reactivate the engines and continue unnoticed.

* * *

“So, they quarantined it,” Vivian mused as Anna reactivated the engines. “What do you think? Zombies?”

Anna laughed. “Zombies are too slow for the kind of behavior I saw.”

“What, you never seen _World War Z_ or played _Left 4 Dead_? It matches the whole quarantine aspect of this story.”

“That may be, but it’s certainly no zombie from the TV or movies. From what I can tell, when people have this ADAM stuff they can talk and they have increased agility. Plus, there’s clearly no risk of it spreading. Fontaine, Fink, me…none of us were wearing protective suits or anything.”

“Sucking the fun out of everything,” Vivian pouted. “I’m gonna go take a leak.” She unstrapped herself from her chair and floated through the door into the back half of the shuttlecraft, which contained a bathroom, a shower, a kitchenette, and an airlock.

Anna sat in her chair in silence for a moment in thought. Finally, “Alec, play Fitzroy’s Tenenbaum audio interview 64, please?”

_“Yes, Detective.”_

A holographic image was projected from the data oculus, depicting an audio player display. Anna hit the “play” button.

Tenenbaum’s voice emerged. _“I think I cease to be candid the moment you tell me it is recording.”_

Fitzroy. _“Why? Because you’re constantly worrying everything you say will be printed in all ten million copies of the Ascension Reporter?”_

Tenenbaum, laughing. _“Alright, see, you are making it worse for me now.”_

Fitzroy, laughing as well. _“Then perhaps we’ll move on to topics you’ll actually be candid about. Let’s talk about your work on the Ascension Orphanage and Daycare Center.”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Since its inception, the AODC has found homes for over 900,000 of Ascension’s children. Can you talk a little about the story behind the center’s creation?”_

_“Well, I learned I was infertile after a pregnancy scare in college—I’m sorry, can I start over? I know it was on the record, I just don’t—“_

_“No, no, I won’t put it in the article. I’m not here to slander you. Start over.”_

_“Good. Uh…well, I am first and foremost married to my work. I learned I was infertile at a point in my career when having children was not a priority for me. In truth, even if I could bear children I would probably not, simply to avoid the stress and time pregnancy could take away from my work. Do you understand?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Nonetheless, knowing I was infertile made me…think about it.”_

_“About what?”_

_“Ascension has developed in ways beyond simple understanding. We are innovators of technology, science, mathematics…yet like any society, there are those who in the end are unwanted. And where I see the unwanted, I see potential. So I proposed the AODC during the early planning stages of Ascension, and the rest is history.”_

_“Of course, now you have a daughter.”_

_“Yes, Sally. She is finishing up her second year at AIT…I would just like to say, I have discovered cures for diseases, I have discovered new properties in established chemicals…but I think the best thing I have ever done is raise Sally.”_

_“A bit of a switch from early in your career?”_

_“Again, I’ve never had an aversion to children. I just didn’t have the time or, well, ability to have one. But I am proud to call myself the mother of Sally Tenenbaum.”_

“What’re you listening to?”

Anna waved her hand through the image and it dissipated. Vivian had returned from the bathroom. “Tenenbaum interviews. It’s a bit about her work with the AODC.”

“No kidding?” Vivian strapped herself back into her chair. “Why that in particular?”

“Reinforcement?” Anna tapped her data oculus. The applications page showed up. She hit the logo for videos and played the security footage from Colony 12. “The Tenenbaum that presented herself to the public and to her friends…she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would want to create this…whatever Mark Meltzer is apparently destined to become.”

Vivian sighed. “People hide dark secrets, DeWitt. Fitzroy had a few skeletons in her closet that might change a person’s opinion of her. That’s why she kept them way down low.”

Anna looked at Vivian. “What kind of skeletons?”

Vivian laughed. “Let’s just say Fitzroy had her ways of getting the best scoops.”

Alec beeped. _“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we are approaching Colony 12.”_

“Right.” Anna started hitting switches on the control board. “We’re gonna have to do a slow approach, we might attract the attention of the AQC.”

“Actually…” Vivian was staring at the surface. “I don’t think we will.”

Colony 12 loomed in the distance. Besides the numerous buildings and tubes lining the complex, there were no signs of life. No security bots preventing trespassers, no yellow tape, nothing. It was as if everyone had packed up and left.

“Alec, they said it was _quarantined_ , right? Not evacuated?”

_“That is correct, Detective.”_

Vivian looked at Anna. “Then where is everybody?”

Anna shook her head. “Let’s land next to Geology Analysis. Something’s not right.”


	10. Like A Horror Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody is watching you.
> 
> You think you are alone. You are not.
> 
> Somebody is watching you.
> 
> Somebody is watching you.
> 
> Somebody is watching you.
> 
> You thought it was over. You thought you were unknown.
> 
> You are wrong. You have been noticed.
> 
> Somebody is watching.
> 
> Somebody is watching you.

**Thursday, December 18, 2369, 1:40 AM  
Vitruvius Crater, Mare Serenitatis**

Anna approached the door to the airlock.

“Ready?” she asked, looking at the suited figure that contained Vivian.

 _“Ready as I’ll ever be,”_ Vivian replied over the radio.

Anna lifted the black card they had gotten at the diner and inserted into the access panel. The panel turned green and the airlock opened, releasing a cloud of compressed air.

Anna and Vivian climbed into the airlock, which was essentially a small room with suits designed for moonwalks, and some generic equipment.

 _“I thought this was a mining colony,”_ Vivian commented. _“What’s with all this stuff here?”_

 _“The science department of the moon colonies tend to work on their own separate projects,”_ Alec explained. _“Not unlike the Apollo astronauts, really.”_

The door shut behind them. After a moment, the other door made a slight hiss, and opened up into the dark hallways of the Geology Analysis building.

“No lights,” Anna commented. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a flashlight.

This hallway was somewhat hexagonal in shape, with large panels covering what were meant to be hall lights, which were obviously not on. Dotting the ceiling were several vents, which Anna guessed led to a central life support unit.

“Alec, what’s the oxygen situation like?”

_“Scanning…air supply nominal. No foreign contaminants detected. You are free to remove your helmet.”_

Anna pulled the helmet off her suit. “Hello?” she called out.

No answer.

Anna moved her flashlight around. The walls were a clean white, reflecting the the light as they should have.

“Alec, diagnostic on power?”

_“It appears everything here is functional, Detective. Life support, computer mainframe, etc. Apparently someone has merely switched off the lights, rather than it being the result of a systems failure.”_

“Any signs of life?”

_“None within the perimeter. Unless you are seeing something I am not.”_

“No, seems pretty normal.”

Then Anna noticed something. Stained on the wall, in a spot all to itself, was a bloody handprint.

“Whoa,” Vivian whispered, inspecting it. “That’s not a good sign.” She rubbed her glove against it.

“Is it wet?” Anna asked.

Vivian looked at her fingers. “Crusted up. This has been here a while.” She sniffed her hand, apparently trying to ascertain whether it truly was blood, but was instead distracted by another smell. “Do you smell that?”

Anna sniffed. “Smells like…it’s like rotting garlic.” She aimed her flashlight in the direction of the smell.

The beam of light illuminated the floor, revealing a trail of blood. Taking a deep breath, Anna slowly followed the trail.

* * *

Just a few feet around a corner was the source of the smell: a human body in a disgusting state of decomposition. The skin had turned a dark purple color, and most of the lower half of the body was covered in something with the consistency of gelatin. The air smelled like a combination of rotten garlic, smoked jerky, and wood.

“Shit,” Anna gagged, covering her nose. She knelt down and gingerly fiddled with an ID card on the body’s chest. “’E Munford.’ Alec, can you run that name in the database?”

Alec beeped. _“Edmund Munford. Chief Scientist at Colony 12. Was last reported as leading the quarantine efforts. Apparently he has been dead since…well, since at least around the time the quarantine was placed.”_

“Alright. Cause of death?”

_“Blood loss from severe injuries to the stomach. It seems his stomach was literally pulled apart.”_

“What the hell could have done this?” Vivian asked.

Anna thought for a moment. “Alec, pull up the image of our friend from the security footage.”

The data oculus projected the image in the air before them.

“Hello, handsome,” Anna muttered. “I wouldn’t put it above you to do something like this.”

“This body’s been here so long, yet no one’s come along to clean it up,” Vivian pointed out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if our ugly friend has friends of his own.”

Anna aimed the flashlight at the wall. There were some scrawled words on the lower part: “RUN AWAY.” It was written in blood.

The corpse’s arm, the one closest to the message, had one finger outstretched.

Anna was so disturbed she did not even bother to continue covering her nose. “I’ve dealt with a lot of crap in my time as an investigator, but I think this just about takes the cake.”

Vivian coughed. “Please, don’t mention ‘cake.’ Or any food. Ever.”

Anna shined her flashlight down the empty hallway. “Well, whatever he’s telling us to run away from, I suspect that’s where we should be going.”

* * *

Further down the hall was their first sign of light: apparently the decontamination chamber for those planning to use the airlock.

“These guys didn’t cut around corners,” Anna observed. She lightly banged on the small window opening up into the cramped chamber. “Well, this is the only way through. Ladies first. Oh wait, that’s us.”

She inserted the card Sadie had given her into the access panel and the door unlocked. She cautiously opened the door and led Vivian in.

The decontamination chamber was cramped, about the size of a small bathroom. It had doors on two sides, which accessed opposite ends of the hallway Anna and Vivian were traveling.

“What are the odds of this trapping us in here with some sort of extreme danger?” Vivian asked as Anna closed the door.

There was a slight buzzing sound. _“Decontamination cycle initiated,”_ a robotic voice announced.

“Well, whatever the odds were before, they just went up a few notches,” Anna replied.

There was a hiss, and a stream of mist fired off at the two women from the side, covering their heads and their suits with droplets of water. This was followed by a blast of warm air that dried the two off. At least, on the exterior.

“Great,” Anna muttered, removing her glove to let some of the water stream out from inside her suit. “I needed a bath.”

 _“Please remain stationery while decontamination is in progress,”_ the computer announced. _“Laser field will kill residual bacteria. Decontamination process will only take another—“_

Something banged on the other side of the chamber, the door leading to the rest of the facility. The computer ceased speaking, as if it had been interrupted.

Vivian looked at Anna and raised on finger to her lips. _Sshhh._ She leaned forward to try to get a better look through the small window.

Another bang, this one right up against the window. Vivian jumped back.

The computer voice restarted. _“Please remain stationery while decontamination is in progress.”_

Anna ignored the voice and leaned towards the window.

_“Laser field will—“_

Another bang against the window. This one created a small crack.

_“Warning. Do not breach Decontamination Chamber. You may cause a malfunction in—“_

A further clang. More cracks in the window.

_“Warning. Do not breach Decontamination Chamber. You may—“_

Another clang. This time, the laser field disappeared. Then there was complete silence.

Anna’s eyes darted around the room. No escape. They would just have to wait.

Suddenly, there was a loud scratching noise. Looking up, Anna watched as something metal protruded through the door and tore through the thick sheeting. And just like that, the entire door was pulled off its hinges, illuminating for a mere second whatever it was just beyond the threshold.

Then the lights in the decontamination chamber completely shut off, plunging everything into darkness.

Anna didn’t dare breathe. It was a pointless choice of action, seeing as the thing was already aware there were people inside. Still, it allowed Anna to firmly believe the delusion that not breathing made her invisible.

She hadn’t had a good enough look at it. But what she could definitely remember was the large metal hook the creature held in its right hand, and its aggressive stance, ready to pounce on its petrified victims.

But for a moment that felt like an eternity, it did nothing. It simply panted heavily, perhaps savoring the moment.

And then it spoke, and Anna’s blood turned to water as she heard its crazed, scratchy tones.

**_“Is it someone new?”_ **

Before Anna could respond, it let out hiss and ran away, its footsteps trailing off into the darkness.

No one said a word. Finally, Anna worked up the courage to breathe, then speak. “Vivian, are you still there?”

The response was accompanied by a massive sigh of relief. “Yeah.”

There was a loud hissing, and the lights in the chamber switched back on. _“Decontamination cycle complete. You may exit the chamber.”_

Vivian bit her lip. “Should we really continue? I think we’ve established that whatever happened here, it created things like…well, whatever that was.”

“There are too many open-ended questions,” Anna replied, cautiously shining a light down the dark hallway. No sign of life. “Whatever happened down there, whatever created that thing, someone didn’t want Brigid Tenenbaum leaking it to the public. The secret of the ADAM substance is down here somewhere.”

“Have you not seen every horror movie?” Vivian shuddered. “To surive, you run _away_ from the psycho. Well, I guess the only way to determine which one of us is gonna survive is to figure out which one is sexy and which one is beautiful. Sexy gets killed because she’s sinned, beautiful probably lives because she’s pure.”

“Please,” Anna replied, stepping over the threshold and into the hallway. “If this were a horror movie, we would be the hot thrill seekers at the start who get brutally torn apart by the murderer.”

“Really not helping here.” Vivian nervously followed. “Or maybe the gay character. The gay character usually lives. Are you gay?”

Anna looked at her. “Panromantic. Do I get to live?”

Vivian shrugged. “Probably. They don’t really cover that in film theory. You’re kind of the dashing hero, so you have that going for you.”

“What about you?”

“Full-blooded lesbian right here. I’d survive this horror film easily.”

“Only the horror film. TV shows, conventional movies…your death would probably be the tragic ending.”

“You know what’s tragic? The fact we’re still going after that thing. I figured this conversation would put you off.”

Anna stopped and turned to Vivian. “I’m gonna level with you, Monroe. When someone wants me to do something that I consider morally sound, I do it. If they pay me well, I do it. I don’t care about the dangers involved, because in the end I honestly know how to fend for myself. Now you can either turn your ass around and get on that shuttlecraft, or we can move forward and figure out how this story goes.”

Vivian stood there for a moment. Finally, she switched on her own flashlight and moved ahead of Anna.

 _“Clever girl,”_ Alec commented.

* * *

The entrance to the main laboratory, where all research on discoveries from the mine shaft took place, was located right next to an intricately scratched mural that read **_ASCENSION IS NEAR_**.

Anna pressed her rubber gloves against the surface. “Alec, what made these marks?”

The response came a little more quickly than she had expected. _“Fingernails. Look at the jagged—“_

“Let’s not talk about that,” Anna said quickly. She inserted her card into the access panel. The door hummed and slid open, revealing the dark lab in Geology Analysis.

It was at that moment that Anna’s flashlight started to flicker.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Let’s get some light in here.” She felt around the wall until she found the light switch and flicked it on.

The room lit up, presenting something not unlike the interior of the _Discovery_ spacecraft from _2001: A Space Odyssey_. What made it different were the various dead bodies scattered across the floor.

“Why do bad things happen to good people?” Anna asked, putting her helmet back on to avoid the smell.

“To make up for all the good things happening to bad people,” Vivian offered. “At least there are no flies. If this were a horror movie, there would be flies. And you would be dead.”

Anna picked up some sheets of paper lying on a counter. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the cute one,” Vivian shrugged.

Anna turned to Vivian. “Are you flirting with me right now?” she asked. “Because flirting with me is going to slow us down. After all, it was you who wanted to turn tail and run for home.”

Vivian smirked as she walked over to a display of moon rocks and inspected the contents. “A girl can dream.”

Anna took a closer look at one of the pieces of paper she had picked up. It was an analysis. “Subject was discovered by a miner in Shaft 3, who discovered the frozen creature during routine drilling. Subject, once determined to be organic in origin, was revived through treatment in a heated blood compound. Subject once revived bears a strong resemblance to a common slug, one you would find on Earth. Secretes a compound that smells like a mix of lavender and vanilla. Most similar chemical makeup is stem cells from a fertilized human egg. No known Earth-source, appears _alien_ in origin.”

She turned the sheet over.

“Note: Unclear how such a creature could survive in a non-atmospheric environment.”

“Huh,” Anna muttered. “Hey Vivian! Look for something slug-like, maybe floating in a jar or whatever!”

Vivian opened a few cabinet doors. “Well, if it was that important, I can’t imagine they’d just have it lying around.”

Anna looked around the room again. “Uh…what about that safe over there?”

Vivian walked over to the safe and started fiddling with the dial. As she did this, Anna went up to one of the dead bodies, a female scientist with five long slash marks running down her back. Her hand was still clutching a gun. Anna knelt down and looked at the gun. Apparently all the ammunition had been spent.

“Err…Detective?” Vivian announced awkwardly. “Something’s not right. It’s not clicking, I can’t figure out what the numbers are.”

Anna suddenly remembered the safe from Fink’s lab. “Hang on.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a ring of keys.

Vivian stared at the keys then at the safe. “How is that—“

“Wait a minute.” Anna walked up to the safe and gently gripped the dial between her thumb and index finger. With a slight tug, the dial came off, revealing a keyhole.

“I…uh…” Vivian was stupefied. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Anna inserted the red key into the lock and opened the safe.

Lining the shelves of the safe were scores of jars, all filled with a green liquid, something Anna thought she recognized. And inside each jar was a slug-like object, which wriggled around in the liquid.

Anna picked up one of the jars “Looks a bit like a leech,” she muttered. She tapped the jar a few times. The slug lurched around the jar, agitated.

“Could you open this for a moment?” Anna asked, handing the jar to Vivian. “And can I borrow your knife?”

Anna removed her glove, lifted up the knife, and made a quick cut across her palm. “Pour some of that liquid onto my hand,” she told Vivian.

“Are you nuts? Do you even know what this thing is?”

“I have some ideas.”

"What if it's got flesh-eating bacteria?"

"Well then I die and you get to go home early. Just tip the damn jar."

Vivian gave Anna another look of _Are you serious?_ before rolling her eyes and carefully letting some of the substance drop onto Anna’s palm. “What now?” she asked.

“Look!”

They stared in awe as the substance soaked into Anna’s skin and fused the cut together, leaving nothing but a light scar. Anna rubbed her thumb along the scar.

“Well?”

“It’s like it was never there.” Anna closed the jar and placed it in her satchel. “So this is what they found down here. A slug that produces whatever this ADAM substance is.”

“How does it work, though?”

“Umm…Tenenbaum mentioned this in her audio diary, something about…Alec, do you have the audio file we got from her office?”

Alec beeped. _“One moment, Detective…ah, here we are.”_

Tenenbaum’s voice emerged from Anna’s data oculus. “ _The substance acts like a benign cancer, destroying native cells and replacing them with stem versions. Exposure to substance causes a number of effects. Comstock, despite my objections wanted to see if it could cure the arthritis in his hand. To our surprise, upon direct exposure substance caused inflammation to go down, effectively curing Comstock of the affliction. He wants us to put it on the market, but Herr Wahl, myself, and Mr. Fontaine believe it would be wiser to do more tests.”_

Anna stared at the slug writhing around in the jar. “It’s…it’s a miracle cure. They found a miracle cure beneath the surface of the moon.”

Vivian screwed the lid back on the jar. “So then why did they shut this whole operation down? Why didn’t they try making a business out of it?”

Anna thought back to Mark Meltzer, and his bizarre actions after having the ADAM directly inserted into. She though about the thing in the security video, with its massive deformities. She thought about whatever had attacked them back in the decontamination chamber. She thought about all the bodies lying on the floor, still dressed in labcoats and mining uniforms.

“I think they _did_ ,” she said out loud.

Vivian stared at her. “What?”

“Look around us,” Anna gestured to the dead bodies. “This isn’t just a mining facility. It was a testing ground.”

“What?”

“I mean, think about what we’ve seen the ADAM do. This is like nectar and ambrosia, it could solve all health problems forever. Comstock said in his email to Tenenbaum that this could ‘advance humanity by hundreds of years.’ We know the Board of Improvement knew about this, they would have wanted to release it as a standard treatment in hospitals, in pharmacies, I don’t know, whatever place needs medicine.”

“So why didn’t they?” Vivian asked.

“Because any treatment has to be tested. So why not try it out on the ones who found it in the first place? Only judging by the carnage around us, it didn’t go so well. There’s something about the ADAM that turned normal people like Mark Meltzer or the creepy security camera guy insane.”

“Yeah, but what?”

Anna was about to respond with something along the lines of “I have absolutely no idea,” but something caught her eye. Just down the counter was a computer console, complete with a camera set-up, with a dead scientist slumped over the keyboard. Carefully, she pushed the corpse aside and tapped a key.

The screen flickered to life. **ACCESS CARD REQUIRED** the screen read. **INSERT CARD INTO SYSTEM FOR DURATION OF USE.**

Anna pulled out the black card and inserted it into the console.

The message disappeared. In its place was a generic desktop.

“Alec, what was this computer last used for?”

Alec hummed. _“Computer last accessed on June 13, 2369 by a Dr. Francis Pinchot.”_

Vivian pursed her lips. “That’s the day the colony was shut down, right?”

“Right.” Anna bent over and looked at the corpse’s name tag. Sure enough: F. PINCHOT. “Alec, what did the good doctor use it for?”

_“…it appears he recorded a video message. I am cuing it up now.”_

A window appeared on the screen. In it were the words FOR IMMEDIATE VIEWING BY THE BOARD OF IMPROVEMENT.

This was followed by footage of a panicked scientist, staring offscreen. _“FOR GOD’S SAKE, KEEP IT BARRICADED!”_ he screamed. He looked into the camera. _“This is Dr. Francis Pinchot, chief biological analyst here at Colony 12. This is a recommendation to the Board of Improvement regarding Substance Zero, codenamed ‘ADAM’ by Chairman Comstock himself. Upon receiving director orders from Dr. Brigid Tenenbaum, we checked to see if the ADAM tested positive for addictive properties, by gradually leveling off on the daily injections and observing the behavior of the miners. To say the least, the tests proved an astounding success! The miners…they went mad! They stormed the infirmary, trying to get more of the injections! They’ve chased us into the Geology Analysis complex! For the safety of the city and for all of its inhabitants—“_

There was a loud crash, followed by several gunshots. Dr. Pinchot stared offscreen and pulled out his own gun. He leaned forward to give his final warning. _“Do not use the ADAM! It is too dangerous! It—“_ There was a loud bang. Pinchot’s face went blank, and his head slammed into the keyboard. The footage cut out.

Anna and Vivian stared at the screen. Then they looked at the body of Pinchot, with a single gunshot wound through the back of the head.

The lights started flickering again.

“Vivian?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we need to leave.”

“I agree.”

But before they could move, all the lights shut off, plunging the room into darkness.

* * *

There was a long silence.

“Alec,” Anna whispered. “What just happened?”

_“Power to the entire station has shut down. Life support is still functional, but…I think someone has remotely accessed the mainframe.”_

The computer they had just been using suddenly switched on. Its screen, illuminating the dark room, sported a large logo reading FINK EUGENICS.

The loudspeaker system, which had been silent this entire time, sprung to life. _“I did warn you there would be consequences if you interfered again.”_

“That voice…” Anna whispered. Then, a little louder, “You’re the one who left the message on my answering machine, aren’t you?”

_“One and the same, Detective DeWitt.”_

“Am I correct in assuming I’m speaking directly with Brigid Tenenbaum’s murderer?”

_“I’m giving you one last chance, DeWitt. Go home. Drink some whiskey. Eat a waffle. Scarf down a burrito. Do whatever the hell you want, but stop poking your nose in this business.”_

“Forget poking,” Anna smirked. “I think my nose is right up your ass at this point.”

_“You've got a real snotty sense of humor. Don’t you understand the gravity of your situation? I’m giving you a chance.”_

“Did you afford Dr. Tenenbaum that same chance?”

The voice chuckled. _“You DeWitts…you just don’t know when to quit, do you?”_

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

_“You broke into the lab and thought I wouldn’t know you weren’t Dr. Langford. A very risky and very foolish move. I’m no idiot, Detective, I know what Dr. Langford looks like.”_

Vivian looked at Anna.

Anna put her finger to her lips. “Your companion didn’t seem to share the sentiment,” she said in the direction of one of the speakers.

_“Well he’s a buffoon. Even when that wretched Meltzer boy tried to kill you, you fought him off like he was a puppy that wouldn’t quit yapping. It proved to be a fascinating experiment, didn’t it?”_

“I didn’t find it very amusing on my end.”

_“Well, I thought it showed much scientific promise. I wouldn’t mind doing another experiment, seeing how you can handle yourself in a high-risk environment. Miners of Colony 12: **would you kindly** tear the bitch in Geology Analysis to shreds?”_

* * *

The lights all came on. For a moment, everything seemed peaceful. But it probably wouldn’t stay that way, what with the entire colony knowing where they were.

“Let’s go,” Anna said, turning to the door. “And grab some sort of weapon from one of the bodies, you need something better than knife.”

Vivian swallowed. “Uh…bit of a problem with that.”

Anna turned back to Vivian. “What?” And then she realized something. She looked around the room a second time just to be sure she was not imagining things.

Bodies had littered the floor only moments ago. But after the blackout had passed, only a select few were still on the ground.

Not seeing any hiding places on the ground, be it cabinets or underneath tables, Anna decided to look up.

Big mistake. A horrific face, missing its entire lower jaw, swung down from the ceiling and screamed directly at the front of Anna’s helmet, covering the glass with blood and saliva.

Anna stumbled away, tripping over one of the remaining corpses and landing flat on the ground. The creature jumped down from the ceiling and let out another howl.

But before it could make a final lunge at Anna, an arm emerged from over its shoulders and pulled its torso back. Another arm appeared, carrying a large pocketknife, which it slit across the thing’s throat. Blood burst out from the injury onto Elizabeth’s suit. The thing struggle for a moment before collapsing to the side. Standing behind it was a very shaken Vivian.

“What the hell was that?!” she breathed.

Anna pushed herself up and tried to rub the blood off the front of her helmet. “I think it was a miner. He must’ve used the blackout to get into the vents.”

There was a clanging noise. Anna and Vivian nervously looked up at the numerous vent grates dotting the ceiling.

Anna swallowed some blood that had pooled in her mouth after she bit the side of her cheek falling down. “I guess he wasn’t the only one,” she said nervously.

One grate came crashing down. Then another. Then another.

**_“MOVE!”_ **

* * *

They stumbled down the dark corridor, trying their best to ignore the screeching and the mad footsteps that followed them.

“You know, we really didn’t have to stick around!” Vivian shouted. “We could have just grabbed the jar and done whatever the hell we wanted!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, take it home, sell it on the black market?!”

“I’ve got $400,000 sitting on solving the Tenenbaum murder, and I haven’t done that yet!”

“Oh for god’s sake, it’s obviously Fink! Have you forgotten who threatened us?!”

“We— **LOOK OUT!”**

Anna shoved Vivian to the side as a miner that had apparently been chasing them through the vents dropped down to the floor in front of them. It was carrying in its hands a power drill, which it lifted into the air with murderous glee.

Anna knew this move. Get the drop on someone while they were running, when they probably were not paying enough attention to defend themselves. And she knew the proper defense technique.

She balled her hand into a fist and slammed it straight into the miner’s face. He crumpled to the ground in pain, losing his drill as he fell.

“Hey!” Anna shouted. “I just realized something!”

“What?”

“You know how you were asking me if I had ever killed a person and I said no?”

“Yeah!”

“Well that makes your kill-count higher than mine!”

Vivian made an uncomfortable noise. Apparently she hadn’t recovered from slitting that miner’s throat.

* * *

Just down the hall was the decontamination chamber, still prepped for its next use. Quickly, Anna and Vivian jumped in and activated the decontamination process.

 _“Decontamination cycle initiated,”_ the computer toned. _“Please remain stationery while—“_ Then it let out an alarming beep. _“Please seal chamber to activate the decontamination process.”_

“Ah, come on!”

_“Decontamination process cannot continue while chamber is open. Please seal chamber to activ—“_

“Screw it.” Anna raised her gun and fired five successive shots at the control panel. The ruined wires sparked, and the other door opened, allowing the two women to escape.

Finally, they made it into the airlock, making sure to close the door behind them. Anna ran to the card reader that would cycle the airlock, getting them out of the complex for good.

But nothing happened. The panel simply made an unhappy beeping sound.

“What the hell?” Anna hit the card reader a few times.

“They must have disabled it,” Vivian theorized. “Someone really doesn’t want us getting out of here alive.”

There was a loud banging noise on the inner hatch, the one leading back into the station.

Anna looked at the equipment lying on the floor. Maybe there was something she could use to blow the door open. Unfortunately, considering the fact there was no air on the moon, the scientists of Colony 12 had not bothered to stockpile any TNT.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any explosives on you, would you?”

Vivian stared at her. “Do I look like the kind of girl who—“

The glass window to the door leading into the hallway smashed open, and several gnarled hands began wriggling their way through.

Anna turned to Vivian. “Keep the splicers at bay, I’m gonna try to get that hatch open.”

“The what?”

“Miners. I meant miners.”

“What do you expect me to stop them with?”

Anna thought for a moment. With a reluctant sigh, she reached into her bag and pulled out the jar of ADAM. “This should keep them busy for a minute,” she said.

Vivian took the jar and ran at the open window. “Hey psychos!” she shouted. “Want some candy?!” She shoved the jar into the open hands of one of the miners. There was a screech, and the hands disappeared. This was followed by a spray of blood flying in from the hallway.

“You’re right, it’s very effective,” Vivian commented, pointing at the window.

Anna turned back to the outer hatch, trying to find something that she could possibly force open. But the designers of the station hadn’t really designed this hatch with emergency evacuations in mind.

If Anna couldn’t get the hatch open manually, perhaps…

Her eyes darted to the strong latches attached to the airlock, the ones that kept the air pressure from sending the door flying out into the vacuum.

“Vivian, put your helmet on!” she shouted as she raised her gun.

“What?! Why?!”

“Just do it!”

There was a loud crack. The miners, reinvigorated by the ADAM, were finally breaking down the door.

Vivian’s voice came over the radio. _“Whatever you’re planning, do it NOW!”_

Anna opened fire.

* * *

_The detective was standing in a strange room. The floor was a black and white checkered pattern. On four sides were blue velvet curtains._

_In front of her stood a woman in profile, facing from Anna’s perspective the right side of the room. She appeared to be wearing a green dress with a green flower in her hair._

_“Do you know who I am?” she asked._

_The detective shook her head._

_The woman turned and faced the opposite direction, the left side of the room. On her other side she appeared to be wearing a red dress with a red flower in her hair._

_“I am the amanuensis,” she explained._

_She turned to face the detective, who could now see the amanuensis’s dress was split down the middle: one side green and the other side red._

_She reached into her hair and pulled out the flowers. She held them out._

_“Which do you choose?” she asked._

_Anna looked down. After a moment, she pointed at the red flower._

_The amanuensis smirked. “Bold choice, DeWitt.” She closed her left hand into a fist, crushing the green flower and letting the petals fall to the ground._

_She fixed the red flower back into her hair. After smiling once more, she turned so her green side faced Anna. She then turned again, revealing the red side once more._

_Another turn…now the green part of her dress was red._

_The lights flickered, briefly plunging the room into darkness._

_When they returned, the amanuensis was gone._

_The detective looked around the room, then down at the floor._

_The petals were gone. In their place were the pieces of a shattered ceramic mug._

* * *

She couldn’t quite remember what happened next. One moment she was firing shot after shot at the locking mechanism, the next she was lying on the surface of the moon, feeling like someone had slammed a hammer into her head.

She remembered the Apollo astronauts once mentioned in an interview that you could not see stars on the moon like you could on Earth. Anna had never been to Earth, so she couldn’t compare. But she could imagine the disappointment those astronauts must have felt knowing the sky on the moon didn’t have the familiar lights above.

She looked up. The shuttlecraft was only a few meters away. She carefully pushed herself off the ground and started walking towards it, hoping to meet Vivian inside.

The force of the airlock suddenly depressurizing had knocked the wind right out of her. Deciding the danger was past, she bent over to catch her breath. And that was when she saw the shadow.

Whirling around, she found herself standing not far from another miner, this one safely clad in his own suit. He was carrying a large metal hook in his left hand. Anna could not see his face through his reflective visor.

“When are you people going to leave me alone?” Anna groaned.

If he heard her, he did not answer. He took a step forward.

Anna felt around for a weapon. Nothing.

Suddenly, the miner’s visor shattered and he tumbled sideways, flailing as all the oxygen in his helmet was released into the vacuum. With a final grasp at his throat, he finally succumbed to the freezing cold.

Anna stared at the frozen corpse for a moment, then turned, following with her eyes the trail of smoke. Vivian was standing not far away, holding up Anna’s gun.

She looked at the detective. “You dropped this,” she explained.

Anna took another look at the dead miner on the ground, then took a moment to look out and take in the frozen corpses that were now scattered across this small section of the Sea of Serenity.

Vivian walked over to Anna. _“You okay?”_

Anna took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m…I’m fine. How’d you handle the ones who got through?”

 _“Them?”_ Vivian looked back at the empty threshold of the airlock. _“They, uh…they all suffocated and froze. I’m…I’m covered in blood now. Don’t we have a shower on board?”_

* * *

The shower, which Anna had not figured would ever be used during this trip, turned out to be really good at cleaning off the blood from their adventure.

Vivian, after standing under the shower for a few minutes, had removed her helmet and taken a seat on the counter of the kitchenette, staring off into space.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anna asked.

Vivian took a deep breath. “You know, when you called me this afternoon, I would never have imagined we’d be going to the moon.”

Anna rummaged through the kitchenette drawers and found a bag of peanuts, which she quickly consumed. “I’m impulsive. To be fair, I never imagined when I brought you down here I’d see you slit some guy’s carotid artery.”

Vivian looked at the bloody knife that had carried out the deed. “You know, I just…kind of lost it. Didn’t want to see you hurt.”

“You know, Fitzroy’s lucky to have someone like you by her side.”

Vivian smiled slightly. “She is, isn’t she?” She turned and looked directly at the detective. “But, you know…I kind of like being by your side more.” She raised one hand and placed it around Anna’s head. Then she pulled the detective in to a long kiss.

Anna knew the steps. She’d done them before. With any other person, it would involve undressing the partner and going from there.

But this time, after a few tense seconds, she separated from Vivian. “Alec, prep the shuttle for launch.”

Vivian stared at her. “What are you—“

“I know what you’ve been through, Monroe,” Anna commented. “Believe me, I’ve had to do some shit that’d make a normal person go disco. But what we were about to do…” She gripped Vivian’s hand. “…it doesn’t help. You can’t pretend that kind of thing makes you feel any better.”

Vivian made another move for Anna’s arm, but had her hand brushed away. “How do you know that?”

Anna grabbed another pack of peanuts from the kitchenette and popped one in her mouth. “Experience, Vivian. I’ve done my share of work. Sometimes my clients look to me for comfort, or think they can comfort me. Few do the first, no one does the second.” She turned towards the cockpit.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that DeWitt?”

Anna paused. She turned to Vivian again. She reached out a hand and gripped the bottom of Vivian’s jaw. Pulling it open slightly, she leaned forward and gently kissed Vivian again on the lips.

“Sometimes…” Anna said, stepping back and eating another peanut. “I deal some form of comfort. But that doesn’t mean I feel it.”

* * *

As they approached the city, Anna had a thought.

“Alec, what information can you find about Mark Meltzer?”

Alec hummed for a moment. _“Mark Meltzer. Aged 46. Husband to Amanda Kay Meltzer, father of Cindy Meltzer. Interesting: reported missing in September of 2369, whereabouts have not been confirmed, but money keeps getting channeled into the family bank account. It looks like his wife is trying to find him.”_

Anna thought about what she had witnessed in Fink Eugenics. “Not sure what she’d make of what he is now,” she commented. “Soon as all this is over, I’m gonna get him out of there and reunite him with his family.”

She heard a low chuckle. Who was laughing? Looking to her side, she was surprised to see Vivian was the culprit.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Vivian snorted. “But do you really think your little friend from the tests is gonna be able to return to the world after _that_? You saw what happened to the people on the base. The Fink people, they don’t give a shit about their test subjects. They left them to fend for themselves down in that colony, all because a potential product they wanted didn’t quite work as well as they had hoped. Soon as Mark Meltzer proves too much of a hassle, do you know what they are going to do?”

“What?”

“They’re going to flush him out the airlock and write it off as a suicide, just like they did with Brigid Tenenbaum! Because in the end, everybody in Ascension is expendable when it comes to self-indulgence! You, me…everyone in this city…we’re doomed!”

Anna inspected Vivian’s face again. But the woman’s face betrayed no dishonesty. Everything she had just said, she believed it to be true.

“Funny,” Anna commented. “You always struck me as an optimist.”

Vivian laughed. “I’m a realist. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen.”

How much could a reporter’s secretary see?


	11. Billiards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so the truth is I actually finished this story before I even published the first chapter, way back in August. My plan was to publish the chapters weekly or biweekly, with the final chapter releasing in December.
> 
> Then college happened, and I got distracted. But now that things are winding down, I can tell you that after this there are seven more chapters, and I'll be releasing them every Monday and Thursday.

The shuttlecraft came to a stop on the landing platform of Ascension, at around 4:45 PM the day after Vivian and Anna had left. The port was busy now.

“Need me to drive you home?” Anna asked as they walked through the parking lot. It seemed like common courtesy.

“I, uh…I can get there.” Vivian replied. “Hey, do you want to get dinner? I might be able to get us at a place like The Blue Ribbon—“

“No, I’m fine. I have things to do. Tell Fitzroy I’m gonna take a brief hiatus.”

“A hiatus?”

“I’m a little exhausted by the past 18 hours. I’d rather take a break before continuing the case.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense.” Vivian looked around, making sure no one was listening. “You think Fink is the killer?”

Anna walked up to her car. “There are three things I know at this moment. 1) Brigid Tenenbaum was murdered by someone connected to the ADAM experiments. 2) Fink was personally overseeing the ADAM experiments. 3) I am tired, stressed, and thirsty for alcohol, so I’m gonna go to my office and take a shower, then hit the billiards table at McDonagh’s Bar and Grill. This case is officially on hiatus. I’ll call you when we get the renewal.”

And with that, she climbed into her speeder, pulled out of the parking space, and left Vivian staring in her direction.

* * *

**Thursday, December 18, 2369, 5:41 PM  
McDonagh’s Bar and Grill, Uptown**

Usually, some frat boy or sorority girl would come along and try to impress Anna with their billiard skills, and would ultimately leave the table completely humiliated.

Strangely enough, today no one seemed to be up for billiards. So Anna took the opportunity to practice some shots while she relaxed with a glass of scotch.

The TV was reporting that LeSandra Cohen, socialite and daughter of noted artist Sander Cohen, was opening a new club called _Glitter_ , promising quality music, a state-of-the-art dance floor, and top quality food and drinks.

She immediately thought back to the Club 80s case, the one where she had drugged Ms. Cohen. She was never really satisfied with how that case concluded, as in the end it had all been about finding a couple of pictures, one of what looked like a leather bird flying through the clouds, and another of a pendant with the image of a cage emblazoned on the front. She never knew why she was hired to steal these items, and as no one came to claim them, she just kept the file in her desk all the time.

Thinking about it, that case had been the first time—

“Hello again, Detective.”

Anna looked up. Standing across from her was a ginger-haired man, clad in a white tuxedo with a blue rose pinned to his lapel. He looked like he had just come in from a grand ball.

“Mr. Reece Burlott,” Anna declared as she bent down and slammed the tip of her cue straight into the white ball. A red and a green ball bounced around the table before landing in a single net. “How about a game of eight-ball?”

Mr. Burlott raised an eyebrow. “Puzzling…you don’t seem interested as to why I’m here.”

Anna took the billiard balls she had already pocketed and placed them in the rack along with the rest of the balls on the table. “Oh no, I’m interested. I’m just still a little pissed about your walkout last night in the diner.”

“I seem to recall that I was the one who was, as you say, ‘pissed,’” Mr. Burlott replied.

Anna eyed the cueball carefully. “Well, you turned out to be a great help. Had a lovely night out on the moon. Saw things beyond my wildest imaginations. Nearly got my ass killed.”

“And aborted an attempt at sexual intercourse,” Mr. Burlott added.

Anna’s concentration lapsed. Her cue missed its mark and merely grazed the cueball, sending it rolling about five inches before coming to a stop.

“That shouldn’t count,” she said quickly.

“Calling foul: the table’s open,” Mr. Burlott replied, picking up his own cue and positioning himself a few feet from Anna. “My go.”

The cue slammed into the cueball, which in turn hit the solid-colored 5 at the front of the rack, sending the billiard balls flying across the table.

The 2, 6, and 1 balls landed on the left middle, bottom left, and bottom right pockets individually.

“Nice,” Anna muttered, impressed.

“Solids,” Mr. Burlott declared as he repositioned himself. “I take it sleeping with Fitzroy’s secretary was not high on your agenda.”

Anna shrugged. “The moment didn’t feel right.”

Mr. Burlott chuckled. “Why not? Vivian seems like a sweet girl. Anyone would be lucky to have her as a faithful companion.” Another hit, and the 4 landed in one of his pockets on the table.

“You make her sound like a dog,” Anna replied. “I mean…I guess she kind of is one. Just, you know, following me around, doing what I say, beating up people who attack me.” She pursed her lips. “Come to think of it, I’m kind of like your dog.”

Mr. Burlott’s shot failed to land any pockets. “Your move, detective.”

Anna picked up the cueball and moved it to another part of the table. “I’m not into the whole sex thing in general. Didn’t feel it today, probably won’t feel it tomorrow. If I ever do it, it’s about getting results. Learning secrets, or manipulating people. And I don’t need to do that with Vivian.”

Mr. Burlott smirked. “Sex as a means of investigation. I’m impressed.”

“That begs the obvious question.” Anna looked up. “How did you know I turned down Vivian?”

“Have you not come to accept that I know more than the common person should?”

The cueball slammed into a 13 and sent it bouncing around the table, knocking a 15 into a pocket before the 13 itself landed in another.

“I digress, you know a lot.” She re-aimed her cue and hit another shot, sending a 10 into a pocket. “You knew where Fitzroy was hiding, you knew how to get into Tenenbaum’s apartment, you knew that Colony 12 wasn’t actually being quarantined, and you knew about ‘Elizabeth.’ Yet you had no idea about my little encounter with Harry Houdini.”

Reece Burlott didn’t look as cordial as he had at the beginning of this meeting. “What’s your point?”

Anna hit the cueball again. By a stroke of luck, the 14, 11, 15, and 12 all managed to collide with the cueball and roll into Anna’s pockets. “Well,” she said slowly, barely containing her excitement. “What I’m trying to ask you is…why do I feel like I should trust you more than I trust Vivian or anyone I know?”

“Trust?” Sadie Cuternoll leaned against her cue. “My dear Detective Anna DeWitt, you should never trust me. For all you know, I could be the real killer of Brigid Tenenbaum, sending you on a wild-goose chase, all for the express purpose of keeping all suspicion off of me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve always been suspicious of you.” The only striped ball left was the nine. If she got that, then she was open for the 8-ball. “But you’ll be happy to know I no longer consider you an actual suspect.”

“I’m ecstatic,” was the non-ecstatic reply. “If that’s the case, why are you suspicious?”

“Because your demeanor, you helping me at every turn, this billiard game…it’s like you’re trying to be my friend. And in my business, people don’t just walk up to me and try to be my friend.”

“Trust and friendship are mutually beneficial aspects of life,” Sadie mused.

Anna was lining up her cue. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you tell your little friend the real reason why you took this case?”

Anna’s cue slipped, and instead of the stick hitting the ball, her entire body hit the floor with an uncomfortable _slam_.

“I’m sure money was one factor in it,” Sadie smiled, picking up the cueball and putting it in a new position. “But I’m not stupid. I offered this case to you and you only, no one else, simply because I knew you of all people had reason to take it.”

Anna got up from the ground. “You don’t know me.”

“I know more about you than that fool Sullivan does,” Sadie replied. Her cue slammed into the ball, sending the 9 directly into the 5, and both landed in the pockets. “You’ll see me again sooner or later,” she added, hitting the ball again and sending a 3 into a pocket. Only one ball left for her, and then she was open for the 8-ball.

“Which one is it?” Anna asked disdainfully, her dreams of getting out of this bar with another billiard win now fading. “Sooner or later?”

Sadie looked up at Anna and gave one last smile. Her cue slammed into the cueball, sending the seven straight into a pocket, and the cueball bouncing off the table and straight into Anna’s hand.

Only the winning 8-ball sat on the table.

“I believe that’s foul for me,” Sadie declared as she hung her cue back on the rack. “Your move, detective. Continue this case living a pathetic lie, or meet up with Tenenbaum’s daughter.” And with that, she headed for the door.

“You have got to be the most confusing person I’ve ever dealt with,” Anna called out.

“I've worked hard to earn that status!” Sadie shouted over her shoulder as she exited the bar.

Anna stared at the door, then back at the pool table. She placed the cueball on the table and started to aim.

But then she hesitated. After a moment, she stood up and pulled out her phone. She selected one of the numbers on her contact list and dialed it.

 _“Hello?”_ a voice on the other end asked.

“Hey, Sally? This is Detective DeWitt.”

_“Oh, Anna! I was just about to call, my friend Constance finished up the tests. The ADAM—”_

“No, I don’t want to hear about that right now.”

_“…really? So…why’d you call me?”_

“It’s just…can I talk to you about something?”

_“Sure, what?”_

“I mean in person.”

_“Oh. Umm, okay. When?”_

“Is it alright if I stop by your place tonight?”

_“You’re not gonna break in again, are you?”_

Anna laughed. “I’ll remember to knock.”

 _“Great. See you then.”_ Sally hung up.

Anna put the phone away and eyed the 8-ball again. She knelt over the table, aimed her cue, and slammed it into the white ball. The cue ball zig-zagged across the table before finally colliding with the 8-ball, which, despite the force of the hit, leisurely rolled into a pocket.


	12. A Family Matter

The drive to Sally Tenenbaum’s apartment was a slow one due to some traffic.

The radio of Anna DeWitt’s speeder was playing music from the 1940s.

The 20th and 21st century were some of the strangest years for music. Unlike music eras, where styles were generally the same over the course of several centuries, the preferred music changed every decade. By the 22nd century, music trends only lasted a year. By the 23rd, a few months. By the 24th, at most a month.

But Anna liked the 1940s music. They fit with her “hard-boiled detective” image she liked to play. Though she did not know any hard-boiled detectives who snuck into moon bases full of insane miners who were missing body parts.

The Colony 12 excursion had been an overnight trip. Anna had slept a little bit before heading down there, but she had been through so much, she was completely exhausted. She decided to close her eyes while Alec kept the car moving.

_A horrific face, missing its entire lower jaw, swung down from the ceiling and screamed directly at the front of Anna’s helmet, covering the glass with blood and saliva._

Anna’s eyes shot open. “Dammit,” she muttered. She stuck her data oculus on, accessed her movie application, and watched _Blade Runner_ for the rest of the car ride.

* * *

Sally pushed the mug forward. “Drink it.”

Anna eyed the concoction. “That’s a strong smell.”

“It’ll clear your head.”

“Whiskey clears my head.”

“Whiskey is bad for your liver. Drink it. Now.”

Seeing no other option, Anna picked up the mug and sipped the drink. It tasted a bit like licorice.

Sally sat down next to Anna, with her own mug of whatever this drink was. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Anna tapped her fingers against the mug. “You ever heard of Booker DeWitt?”

“I know he’s your dad.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“No, but my mom knew him. His name came up in some files about a smuggling ring in the early days of the city.”

“Well, the thing is…” Anna hesitated for a moment, wondering if she was making the right move.

"The thing is...what?" Sally asked expectantly.

Anna took a deep breath. “...I actually knew your mother.”

Sally stared at Anna. “What? She never mentioned you.”

“It was a long time ago. She sometimes stopped by my dad’s place. We would talk about what I had been up to, what sort of science she was involved in. I think my dad wanted a maternal figure involved in my life, and she was the most maternal woman he knew.”

Sally’s eyes drifted off. Anna imagined she was remembering her own experiences with Dr. Tenenbaum.

“The last time I spoke to her was at my dad’s funeral. It was during the reception, I was getting ready to leave when she pulled me aside. She gave me a long hug, kissed my forehead, and then told me a story that changed my entire life.”

“What was it?”

Anna reached for her data oculus and took it off. “Alec, I need you to power down for a minute.”

_“Pardon?”_

“Just do it.”

_“Err, alright. Shutting down…”_

The light on the data oculus turned off.

“I can’t have him eavesdropping. I’ve never told anyone this story, not even my own AI. I trust you will not share this with anyone else.”

“…I won’t,” Sally said, raising an eyebrow.

Anna took a deep breath. “Here goes. Chairman Comstock always wanted an heir, someone to take over once his time was up. A few years after Ascension was launched, his wife became pregnant.”

“Annabelle Comstock,” Sally nodded. “She died in childbirth, right?”

Anna pursed her lips. “Bear with me. Brigid Tenenbaum, due to her established fame among the medical and scientific community, served as the First Lady’s doctor, coming to their residence every week for almost a year. During that time, she grew to adore the unborn child, looking forward to seeing it grow up in this city. Chairman Comstock adored the child, too. At least…he thought he did.”

“What happened?”

“Comstock holds to the belief that his heir needs to be a boy. And he did not get that from this pregnancy.”

Sally gave a visible grimace. “Okay, wow.”

“Enraged, he disowned the child, who had been christened ‘Elizabeth.’ The official story was that the First Lady had miscarried. In truth, he had ordered Dr. Tenenbaum to get rid of the little girl.”

Sally’s eyes drifted to a picture of Dr. Tenenbaum that was sitting up on a shelf. “Did she?”

“No. Dr. Tenenbaum took pity on the baby, and felt she deserved a proper parent. So she gave the child to a friend of hers, a detective in Bradley Heights who had always wanted children.”

Sally stared at Anna. “You mean—“

“For now, I am Anna DeWitt.” Anna took another sip of her drink. “But for approximately a week, my full name was Elizabeth Draper Comstock.”

The room was silent. Anna could hear the rushing of cars outside the apartment’s window.

Sally broke the silence. “That would make you—“

“The true heir to Ascension.” Anna smiled weakly. “I guess I don’t look royalty material, huh?”

“What about Comstock’s attempt to have a boy?”

“Well, from what I can tell, he tried again. This time, Annabelle Comstock actually miscarried, and left the mortal realm with her child. After that, Comstock simply gave up on having an heir by biological means, and intends to pass his position to someone else on the Board of Improvement.”

Sally stared at Anna. “Does Comstock know about you?”

“I have no idea. He has eyes and ears everywhere, I can’t imagine your mother’s deception went unnoticed. But no one’s ever tried to claim me. No one even knew my name was Elizabeth until yesterday.”

“What happened?”

“The one who hired me to investigate your mother’s death…he called me Elizabeth. I don’t know how he knew it, but it was obvious he knew a lot about me and my lineage. This case, it goes a lot deeper than a simple murder. It has ties in the Board of Improvement. When I visited Colony 12, somebody tried to kill me.”

“What? Who?”

Anna’s grip around the coffee mug tightened. “I don’t know, but they had threatened me over the phone a few days ago. All I know is that they’re connected to Fink Eugenics. And whoever it was…they knew something about my father.”

Sally pushed her own mug away. “Detective, you’re diving into really dangerous territory, I think you need to get out of it.”

Anna’s arm started to tremble. “I’m close, Sally. I at least know the entity responsible for her murder. What I can’t figure out is _why_ your mother was killed: the ADAM on Colony 12 was too dangerous for public consumption, that’s why the Board of Improvement shut it down. But Fink Eugenics was still experimenting on it. Whatever they were up to, your mother was about to blow the lid on the whole operation. And that cost her her life.”

* * *

_“Smother him in the crib…”_

_“Smother.”_

_“Smother.”_

_“Smother.”_

_“Before the choice is made.”_

_“Before you are reborn.”_

_“And what name shall you take my son?”_

_“He’s Zachary Comstock.”_

_“He’s Booker DeWitt.”_

_“No…I’m both.”_

* * *

There was a loud crack. Anna looked down and realized she had squeezed the mug so tightly it had shattered in her hands, leaving a bloody mess of ceramics.

“Uh…” she stammered, trying to ignore the searing pain in her palm. _What the hell was that?_ “Sorry…I didn’t mean to—“

“Hang on.” Sally pulled Anna up from her chair and brought her over to the sink. She shoved the hand under the running water before going to get a first aid kit.

Anna stared at her hand. Thankfully the injury wasn’t too severe, but she couldn’t imagine she would be able to use her right hand properly for some time. That ADAM would have come in handy right about now, but the jar she and Vivian had tried to take was now a shattered mess on the moon.

Sally returned and pulled Anna’s hand from the water. After toweling it off, she pulled out some bandages and wrapped them tightly around the wound.

“You okay?” she asked.

Anna stared at the bandages wrapped around her hand. “Yeah.”

Sally put an arm around Anna’s shoulder and patted her on the back. “Don’t stress yourself out on account of my mom. She obviously cared about you, she wouldn’t want you this uptight.”

Anna chuckled. “I’m not that uptight.” She traced her left hand over the bandage.

* * *

_“You know what part of the brain free will comes from? Stubbornness? The pre-frontal lobe. Now, I think it’s fair to say: you’re a bit of a stubborn one, are ya not? Man named Steinman taught me this. He’s a bit of a lunatic, but a fine surgeon.” Atlas picked up a long, needle-like pick. “He calls this little trick a ‘transorbital lobotomy.’ Take hold of her, lads.”_

_“You’re wasting your time,” Elizabeth grunted._

_Atlas ignored her. “Now, if you won’t remain still, I can’t be held responsible for what comes next.”_

_Elizabeth felt Atlas’s splicers grasping her shoulders and pushing her head back._

_Atlas lifted up the pick and gently slid it under Elizabeth’s eyelid. Her vision clouded. “You feel that? I’m moving the pick across your eyeball and—still now!—and resting it on your skull. Now, there’s about a bit over a quarter of an inch of bone between the pick and your pre-frontal lobe. And that’s—“ he pulled out a little mallet. “—where this little fella comes in.”_

_Elizabeth struggled. “I don’t—“_

_Atlas tapped the mallet against the pick, and a wave of pain slid across Elizabeth's face. “Shh…” he said over her struggling. “It was just a wee tap.” He wiggled the pick. “But I don’t expect it’ll take more than a few of those to reach the meat. Where’s me ace in the hole?”_

_“I don’t know,” Elizabeth insisted. “Alright?”_

_Atlas looked away. “You know what else rests in the lobe?” He looked back at Elizabeth. “Creativity.”_

_Tap._

_“Individuality.”_

_Tap._

_“Personality.”_

_Tap._

_“In short, what makes you you.” He wiggled the pick once more. “Ah, we’re just about through now. Last chance, pet.” He raised the mallet again, and his face and tone of voice took a darker turn. “Where…is…the ace…in the hole?”_

_And then Elizabeth realized something. Atlas had miscalculated his moves._

_“Or what?” she laughed, as Atlas’s expression turned to confusion. “What, you’ll put a hole in my head and take away my memories? You wanna make me forget all this? You wanna make me not care anymore?”_

_Atlas lowered the mallet. A sneer formed on his face._

_Elizabeth sensed her words were getting to him. “Go ahead,” she said with a smirk. “You’ll be doing me a favor.”_

_Atlas snarled and pulled the pick right out of Elizabeth’s eye socket. **“BRING IN THE MONSTER!”** he shouted as Elizabeth tried to recover. He slammed the back of his palm across her face. “You’re a regular hero, ain’tcha?” He spoke in a strong Brooklyn accent._

Hello, Frank Fontaine, _Elizabeth thought to herself._

_Fontaine continued. “Can’t risk rippin- the only part a you that’s worth a damn. Well, there’s more than one way to fry an egg.”_

_A splicer backed up into Elizabeth’s view, pulling a gurney. To Elizabeth’s horror, she realized Sally was strapped into it._

_“Now, little one,” Fontaine growled as his voice rescinded into the Atlas persona. “Are you familiar with the term ‘transorbital lobotomy’?”_

_“Please, let her go!” Elizabeth gasped as she realized what Atlas was planning._

_Sally struggled against her restraints as Atlas continued. “It’s a simple matter. All I need to do is insert this pick into your eye—“_

_“Please, I don’t know anything I—“_

**_“Two taps—“_ **

_“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”_

**_“BETTER TO SHOW BY EXAMPLE!”_ **

* * *

_“Detective…detective?!”_

The world was dark. Why was the world dark?

**“ANNA!”**

Anna DeWitt’s eyes shot open. She was on the ground, with Sally kneeling beside her.

“What the hell happened?” the detective groaned. She had a splitting headache.

Sally looked stunned. “I…I don’t know, your nose started bleeding, and then you just fell over.”

Anna felt her nose. Sure enough, a small trickle of blood was coming out.

“I’m not…” she quickly got up. “I need to leave.”

“Detective, you’re in no condition to—“

“Here.” Anna reached into her pocket and gave Sally the ring of keys. “You’ll need these.”

Sally stared at the keys. “I will?” She looked up. “But we still don’t know what the red key does—“

The door slammed. Anna had already left.


	13. Through A Mirror

**Thursday, December 18, 2369, 10:07 PM  
DeWitt Investigations, Calypso Plaza, Bradley Heights**

Anna turned on the data oculus. “Alec, put a call out to Sullivan.”

_“Oh, not even a ‘welcome back to the real world, Alec?’ after shutting me off?”_

“Just do it!”

_“Oh…it seems he left a message for you. Several, actually. Apparently it was urgent that you—“_

“ALEC!”

Alec sighed. Why did Artificial Intelligences sigh? They couldn’t even breathe. _“Dialing...call placed.”_

Sullivan picked up immediately. _“Anna!”_ he shouted.

“The one and only.”

_“I’ve been trying to contact you for hours, where have—“_

“You win.”

_“I win?”_

“I quit. Not doing the Tenenbaum case. Don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

_“…is this a joke?”_

“I wish it was. Not working with Fitzroy. Consider this your victory.”

_“But that’s what I wanted to say! Fitzroy is—“_

Anna hung up. “Alec, put a call out for Vivian Monroe.”

_“Two calls in a row? Can’t you take a break?”_

"I swear to god I'll tear into your programming and wipe your personality matrix if you question me again!”

_“Okay, okay. Dialing…”_

It only took a few rings for Vivian to pick up. _“Hey, Detective. I just finished talking with Fitzroy about our little escapade, she—”_

“Vivian, I quit.”

There was silence. _“You what?”_

“Tell Fitzroy I’m done. I’m not going any further. She can keep the five grand, give it to some other detective. It’s over for me.”

_“Detective, you still don’t—“_

Anna hung up.

* * *

_The detective was standing in a strange room. The floor was a black and white checkered pattern. On four sides were blue velvet curtains._

_She looked up. No visible ceiling—the curtains seemed endless, stretching into a dark void._

_She looked down. There was a small boy in early-20 th century clothing. He held up a small card. “Telegram for you, Ms. DeWitt.”_

_The detective took the card. Strangely, this did not have the layout of a telegram—as far as she could tell, it was a blank card, its paper faded slightly. On it was a number: **“59.”**_

_“Again?” she asked, looking at the boy. “What’s this for?”_

_The boy shrugged. “You didn’t listen to the last one.” He turned and ran through one of the blue velvet curtains, disappearing behind it._

_The lights flickered. The sound of electricity crackling was heard._

_“He will break and you will be alone.”_

_The detective turned around again._

_A woman in a violet dress stood before her. Her hair was a dark almond color. A long slit stretched across the front of her neck. Blood stained her skin._

_“It’s the fall that kills you, little one,” she said. “It killed me.”_

_The detective took a few steps forward. “I couldn’t save you, Doctor,” she whispered, tears in her eyes._

_The woman smiled weakly. “I am not the one who needed to be saved. I think I saved you more than you may think.” She stopped smiling and looked worried. “You have company.”_

_Static began to play._

_Footsteps._

_The detective turned. There was a shadow crawling along the outer edge of the curtain. It was a figure, hunched over, reaching forwards as if grasping at something that wasn’t quite there._

_The static grew louder._

_The figure stopped at the edge of a curtain. It turned. A gnarled hand gripped the edge of the curtain and gently started to pull it back._

_The static grew to a deafening roar._

_The figure gripped the curtain tighter and swung its arm revealing itself._

_All the lights went out. The static ceased._

_And in the darkness, there came a voice…_

**_“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to put your faith in strange men?”_ **

_A recording of Edith Piaf’s “La Vie En Rose” played for all of five seconds. And then, just like that, it was cut off._

_The lights came on. The curtain was back in place, undisturbed._

_The detective turned around._

_A horrific face, missing its entire lower jaw, swung down from the ceiling and screamed directly into the detective’s face, covering it with blood and saliva. It grabbed at her head and dragged it up into the void._

_The detective kicked and punched at the thing, trying desperately to break free. She watched the checkered floor move farther and farther away from her view._

_The thing let out another howl and let her go._

_The wind flew into the detective’s face. The ground grew closer and closer…_

* * *

Anna awoke with the start and immediately sat up from her desk, hitting her head directly into the lamp.

_“Ah, detective. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go to your room to sleep, but then you just started snoring and I let you be.”_

Anna rubbed the bruised part of her head. “Not now, Alec. What time is it?”

_“3 AM. It’s very late.”_

“Oh, so now we’re considering 3 AM as nighttime, huh?”

“Don’t you even start,” the voice on the couch said.

Anna pulled out her gun, intending to aim it at whoever was on the couch. But instead, she felt a sharp pain in her still-bandaged hand and ended up dropping the gun on the floor.

The voice chuckled. “You might consider becoming ambidextrous,” it said.

Anna didn’t need much thought to know who it was. “Funny. I shut down my investigation, thinking I’d seen the last of you. Not only is that not the case, you appear to me in the exact same manner as you originally showed up.”

Sadie Cuternoll stepped out from the shadows and seated herself in the chair opposite Anna’s desk. “I never told you to quit, you know.”

Anna reached into her desk, pulled out two glasses, and poured some scotch into both. “You know how I choose my cases?” She pushed one of the glasses towards Sadie. “I consider three factors: the morality of me taking the case, how entertaining working it will be, and how much danger I will put myself in.”

“What about how much money you’ll get paid?” Mr. Burlott asked as he picked up the glass.

Anna clinked her glass against his. “Money is a given. I expect to be paid for my efforts. Don’t care how much money someone gives me, so long as I consider the results of the three factors positive ones.”

Reece took a sip of his scotch. “I imagine the Tenenbaum case fulfilled that criteria.”

Anna downed all of her scotch. “All except the last one. That was too much danger for my taste.”

Mr. Burlott put his glass back on the desk. “I sense that danger wasn’t the reason you quit while you were ahead.”

Anna laughed. “No. More like some bigger mystery came along and I decided I was better off solving that.”

“And why that reasoning?” Ms. Cuternoll asked.

Anna looked out the window. Several cars hovered by in the night air. One of them had the windows open and the radio at full-blast playing some song she could not identify.

“Let’s just say weird shit has happened to me throughout this whole case,” Anna declared. “And the funny thing is, that weird shit never happened to me before I met you.”

“The nosebleeds?” Sadie asked as she finished her scotch.

“…yeah.”

“And the dreams?”

Anna stared. “Oh, so you know about the dreams now. Perfect.”

Ms. Cuternoll leaned back in her chair. “Let’s pretend you hadn’t quit the case,” she said slowly. “Who killed Brigid Tenenbaum?”

Anna poured more scotch into the two glasses. “I figure it was Jeremiah Fink.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s obvious, right? The mining colonies are run by the Fink Corporation. Whoever threatened me was a Fink Eugenics representative. They basically confessed to being Tenenbaum’s murderer.”

“Logical reasoning,” Mr. Burlott said as he picked up the scotch glass. “But what’s the motive?”

Anna swirled the scotch in her own glass. “Fink Eugenics was continuing development on the ADAM substance long after the Board of Improvement shut down Colony 12. Tenenbaum was about to pull the plug on the operation, so they had her killed. End of story.”

“You’re thinking too simple,” Ms. Cuternoll replied. “Tenenbaum was at least partially behind the whole operation. Have you considered that?”

Anna could not even respond before Mr. Burlott continued: “No, you haven’t. Because in your mind Tenenbaum is some do-no-wrong figurehead who deserves to be remembered that way in death. But you know she was involved in the testing of the ADAM. Her notes prove it.”

Anna’s put down her glass. Suddenly she was not thirsty. “I know that Tenenbaum didn’t fully accept the conditions of the experiments—“

“You need to accept the fact that not everyone follows a moral code like you, Detective.” Ms. Cuternoll reached into her pocket and pulled out a striped card. “So I need you to understand what I’m saying before I give you this.”

“What is that?”

“It’s the last thing I am ever going to give you, the last clue as to who killed Brigid Tenenbaum.”

Anna stared at Mr. Burlott. “Fine. So Tenenbaum wasn’t a saint. She conducted those tests on Mark Meltzer, turning him into certified grade A splicer.”

“A what now?” Ms. Cuternoll asked.

“Splicer. An ADAM user that went nuts. Haven’t you been paying attention? Anyway, if Tenenbaum was conducting those tests in the weeks before she died, then okay, she had no problem with them. But then something happened. And she suddenly decided she couldn’t let the tests go any longer, so she called Fitzroy, hoping to leak everything to the public. Fink finds out, has her killed. Now give me that card.”

“Not yet.” Reece held the card back. “Would you kindly explain what happened during the tests that prompted her switch?”

“How should I know? Maybe there was some sort of side-effect of the ADAM they liked, something they…” she trailed off. _“Would you kindly…”_

Sadie smiled. “I think you’ve hit the nail on the head.”

Anna tapped her data oculus. “Alec, I need you to call Sally.”

_“Detective…do you realize how early it is?”_

**“I DON’T CARE!”**

_“Ahah…dialing now.”_

The phone rang only once.

 _“WHAT?!”_ came the cross voice of Sally Tenenbaum.

“Sally, it’s me.”

The voice calmed down, but there was still an edge of hostility. _“Anna…do you know what time it is?”_

“Sally, the results your friend found from the ADAM. What were they?”

_“Uh…I don’t know, there was stuff about how it attacks the nervous system, causing the user to make impulsive decisions. Umm…oh, there’s a chemical in there, it gets into the cerebral fluid and uh…”_

“What does it do?!”

_“Anna, you’re calling me at 3 in the morning, give me a moment to think! Uh...apparently the chemical is like a computer virus. Like a highly mutated strain of DNA and RNA: you can program it to make the user potentially do anything with a certain chemical reaction, or whatever.”_

“Could you program them to follow a trigger word?”

_“Well again, you just have to activate it from potentially anything, and brain signals are just energy, so, yeah…”_

“Thanks, Sally. That’s all I need.”

_“Wait a minute!”_

“What?”

_“The keys you gave me…the ones you got from that mysterious lady. What does the red key do?”_

“Oh. The safe in your mother’s office: the dial is fake. Pull it off the lock, there’s a keyhole there.”

_“…wait, really?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Okay…I guess I’ll do that then.”_

“Good luck. And good night.”

_“You too.”_

Anna hung up the phone. “Fink was planning to take advantage of the mind control properties of ADAM.”

“For what?”

“Well, that I have to find out for myself.”

“Good.” Reece handed over the card.

Anna inspected it. “It’s…it’s a security pass,” she said slowly. She read the printed letters on the front. “’CS 59’?”

 _“Carbon Scrubber 59,”_ Alec explained. _“That’s one of the locations Tenenbaum visited before she died.”_

“Your answers lie there,” Reece explained, nodding. “And this…” she handed Anna what looked like a photograph. “This will answer some more questions.”

Anna stared at the photograph. It was a picture of a pendant, emblazoned with the image of a bird. Turning it around, she discovered some writing on the back: **BIRD OR CAGE?**

There was something familiar about this photo.

Anna reached into her desk and pulled out a folder from a bizarre case a few months back, where she was paid to steal a file from the Club 80s, only her client never picked it up. The file had contained the picture of the Eiffel Tower with a theater marquee that read _Le Revanche Du Jedi_ , a picture of what looked like a leather bird in the sky, and, bizarrely, the image of a pendant emblazoned with the image of a cage. On the back of this particular picture had been the writing **BIRD OR CAGE?**

Anna looked at both images. Then she turned them around. The handwriting matched exactly.

“So it was _you_ ,” Anna breathed, looking up at the woman across from her. “What’s this all about?” And then it hit her.

Reece smiled. “Took you long enough.”

“You’re not…” Anna stared at the man sitting across from her. “Where’s…you’re…”

And like magic, a wave of static floated over Reece Burlott until the unmistakable form of Sadie Cuternoll sat across from Anna. She was clad in a black evening gown, her ginger hair held up by a green set of hair sticks, made up as though she had just come from a grand ball.

“You best be getting on your way, then, songbird,” she smiled. She stood up and started to head for the door.

“Hey!” Anna shouted. “Who are you?! I’m not done with you here!”

Sadie was at the door. She looked back at Anna. Another wave of static, and she was replaced by Reece Burlott, clad in a white tuxedo with a blue rose pinned to his lapel. He looked like he had just come in from a grand ball.

“Trust me Detective,” he said. “You are. I’ll see you when you get back. I said it before and I’ll say it again…the answer is much closer than you think. It’s at the tip of your tongue.”

“Hey!” Anna grabbed for her gun. “HEY!”

But feeling a sudden wave of pain, Anna toppled over her desk as a wave of blood came pouring out of her nostrils. By the time she had recovered, Reece or Sadie or whatever that thing was had walked out of the office. This time, apparently, for good.


	14. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter one for today.

_“Detective, you will find it difficult to solve the case if you die in a car accident,”_ Alec warned.

The speeder zipped around a taxi. “I’m just a fedora-touting detective trying to get some answers,” Anna replied. “Forgive me if I want satisfaction sooner rather than later.”

_“Yes, well, death is said to be the greatest satisfaction.”_

“Aren’t you a Smart-Alec. Where does this snark come from? You’re a computer A.I.!”

_“Well, I learned it from the snarkiest person I know.”_

Anna smirked at the dashboard. “Thanks, Alec.”

_“You’re welcome, Detective.”_

Anna grabbed the thermos and took a sip. She immediately spat out the drink. “Is this coffee black?!”

_“You didn’t give me a chance to add cream and sugar.”_

Anna stared at the thermos. Then, with a shrug, she raised it to her lips and downed the whole thing.

“It’s not bad,” she muttered, tossing the thermos into the backseat. “Call Vivian.”

_“…I see we’re in the business of waking people up. Dialing.”_

The phone rang for a bit. _“Hello?”_ Vivian’s voice asked.

“Vivian! Listen, I’m back on the case.”

_“Really?”_

“Yeah! Meet me at Carbon Scrubber 59 in about an hour. I’m gonna find out why Fink had Tenenbaum killed once and for all.”

_“I’ll meet you there!”_

Anna hung up.

 _“You know,”_ Alec mused. _“The Club Kashmir is not too far out of the way. Why don’t we stop by there and let Fitzroy know in person we’re back on the case? She’ll be happy to hear that.”_

“Good plan.” Anna turned the wheel and the speeder headed off the exit ramp towards the Club Kashmir.

* * *

**Friday, December 19, 2369, 3:23 AM  
Club Kashmir, Pauper’s District**

The street is not so deserted: now there are police cars and ambulances parked everywhere. Discarded bottles and wrappers are swept up by sanitation bots, who are very clearly not happy about the littering habits of humans.

There is no bouncer standing beneath the marquee. Instead, there is a uniformed police officer.

Above the marquee are the red words “Club Kashmir.” The marquee sign itself reads: “Performing tonight: Carol Lynn and the Peeping Toms.”

The door opens. A gust of jazz music and the distinct smell of smoke and booze trickles out. A man in a green coat walks out. The man in the green coat takes a moment to breathe in the outside air.

He hears the distant hum of a speeder. He looks at his watch. Few people ever enter the Club Kashmir at this hour. Perhaps it’s just someone driving by.

The car in question floats down the road. To the man in the green coat’s surprise, it slows down, coming to a rest right in front of the club.

* * *

Anna got out of the car. She took a moment to stare at the police cars and ambulances, completely puzzled.

“Morning,” the man in the green coat said.

Anna looked at her watch. “It’s 3:23 AM. That’s practically night.”

The man in the green coat sighed. He just couldn’t win.

“Where’s the bouncer?” Anna asked, turning to the police officer at the door.

The officer stared at her. “Bouncer? Haven’t you heard?”

Anna did not like this guy’s attitude. “No, apparently I haven’t.”

The man in the green coat cleared his throat. “You mean Charlie?”

“Yeah. Where is he?”

The man in the green coat shifted his weight awkwardly. “There’s been a…there’s been a murder.”

Anna blinked. “A _murder_?”

“I just got out from getting interviewed,” the man in the green coat said gravely. “It was in the wine cellar, I hear—“

Anna did not want to hear the rest. She shoved the man aside and burst through the club doors, in spite of hearing the officer shouting “Hey! Stop!”

* * *

The inside of the Club Kashmir was different. The red curtains still surrounded the room on three sides. But the tables in the main pit were empty. Instead of waiters in white suits scurrying around, there were uniformed police officers. The stage was completely bare: no performers, no instruments.

“ANNA!”

Anna turned to see Chief Sullivan running towards her.

“Anna, you can’t be here, this is a crime scene!” he exclaimed.

“What happened?” Anna asked, ignoring him.

“That’s confidential information, you can’t just—“

“Daisy Fitzroy was my client,” she said seriously. “I need to know about her status at this time.”

Sullivan’s expression was solemn. “Follow me.”

He led Anna out the door into the alleyway. There were forensics units there, too.

Anna sniffed the air. She recognized that smell. She had once identified it as rotting garlic, but now knew it for what it really was: the stench of rotting flesh.

* * *

On the floor of the cellar, lying in a pool of their own blood, were Brenda and Charlie. Their expressions bore the same terror they had felt upon their own deaths. They had lived long enough to crawl towards each other and grasp each other’s hands.

Fitzroy, too, was unable to escape her fate. The blood from her injuries had soaked into the sheets of her cot, which she was still lying on.

“One of the waiters came down here early in the evening when he noticed the fridge was running low on drinks,” Sullivan explained. “Found this carnage.”

“Jesus,” Anna said. She knelt down next to Brenda. “Throat slit. Bled to death right here.”

“Exactly the same way Tenenbaum died,” Sullivan noted. “I guess you were right after all.”

“Don’t talk to me,” Anna snapped. She walked over to Fitzroy’s body. There were some bruises over her body. “Signs of a struggle. She didn’t go quietly.”

“We found several broken bottles. Apparently whoever killed them was slowed down by the bartender and the bouncer, but managed to off them before getting Fitzroy. They may have been going for a clean kill, but things got messy fast. They left some blood behind, we’re trying to find out—“

“How long have these been here?” Anna interrupted. Something was not right.

“Time of death was about three days ago.”

Anna looked up. _“Three days?”_

“Yeah. We don’t have any leads yet. I figure you’ve been on the Tenenbaum case so long, you might—“

“Hold it.” Anna raised her hand toward Sullivan. “Brenda and Charlie died three days ago, right? Fitzroy was more recent?” It didn't make sense at all, but it could explain so many things.

Sullivan stared at her. “No…they all died Sunday morning between 9 and 10 AM.”

Sunday morning…only a few hours after she had met with them.

“But…that can’t be right,” Anna stammered. “I’ve been relaying messages to Fitzroy through her secretary since that afternoon!”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Detective,” Sullivan replied. “I tried letting you know last night. But you hung up.”

Anna felt like she was going to vomit. Thoughts raced through her head.

* * *

_“Makeup hides a lot of things. Zits, scars, dermatitis…but it certainly doesn’t hide swelling.”_

_“Of course. I just spoke with Daisy, she wanted to know if you made any progress.”_

_“She wasn’t surprised. Only someone on the Board of Improvement could pull something like this off.”_

_“Be careful with this one, songbird. She, too, does what it takes to get a job done.”_

_“Hey, Detective. I just finished talking with Fitzroy about our little escapade…”_

* * *

An image. A woman who, despite her timid appearance, had slit open the throat of a miner without any hesitation.

* * *

 _“I’m…I’m sorry. But do you really think your little friend from the tests is gonna be able to return to the world after_ that _? You saw what happened to the people on the base. The Fink people, they don’t give a shit about their test subjects. They left them to fend for themselves down in that colony, all because a potential product they wanted didn’t quite work as well as they had hoped. Soon as Mark Meltzer proves too much of a hassle, do you know what they are going to do?…They’re going to flush him out the airlock and write it off as a suicide, just like they did with Brigid Tenenbaum! Because in the end, everybody in Ascension is expendable when it comes to self-indulgence! You, me…everyone in this city…we’re doomed!”_

* * *

“Anna?”

The detective quickly realized that Sullivan was waving his hands in her face.

Anna looked at Sullivan. “Do you know that old saying about how you should keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

“Yeah…”

Anna took one last look at Fitzroy’s body. She turned to Sullivan. “Fuck that.”

She bolted up the stairs and out of the cellar, ignoring Sullivan’s protests that she needed to be questioned.


	15. In The Air

**Friday, December 19, 2369, 5:02 AM  
Carbon Scrubber Facility 59, Pauper’s District**

Anna ditched her speeder a few blocks away from Carbon Scrubber 59. She did not want Vivian knowing she was coming.

The facility was gigantic, about the size and height of a football stadium. Perhaps as a sign that the building was not unlike a tree in its treatment of the air, there was plenty of foliage in the grounds surrounding it. Plenty of foliage for hiding, that was.

Anna crouched behind the bushes. The CS facilities had a weekly maintenance check, but were otherwise left to run by themselves. That meant the grounds of the facility were completely deserted.

Deserted, that is…except for one Vivian Monroe nervously standing by the entrance. She was pacing the grass, sometimes biting her teeth.

“Okay, Alec,” Anna adjusted the cuffs on her arms. “You know the drill.”

_“Of course.”_

Anna wait until Vivian’s back was turned. Then she raised her arms and fired off a small device from her cuffs. It imbedded itself in the wall behind Vivian.

Anna pulled out some earbuds from her coat and put them on.

 _“—she’s taking too long.”_ Whatever Vivian was saying into the phone played into Anna’s ears. _“…No, she was very clear, she would meet me at the facility in one hour…She’s very efficient, she wouldn’t lie to me about that…No! No, it has not been blown, she suspects nothing. Unless…Unless she might have found…Ten minutes. You’re sure? I can’t…Yes sir.”_

Vivian hung up the phone, took one last nervous look around, and then walked back into the building.

“That conniving bitch,” Anna muttered to herself. She noticed Vivian peering out the window, trying to get one last glimpse of the detective she was expecting. Finally, she gave up and went back to whatever she was doing.

Seeing her chance, Anna sprinted across the lawn until she was at the door. She pulled out the security pass her mysterious benefactor or benefactors had given her, and slid it through the reader.

The door unlocked.

Anna peeked her head in. No sign of Vivian.

“I’ll just invite myself in, then,” she muttered as she slipped through the door.

The other side of the door led into a long hallway. Anna could hear the churning of engines at the very end. Hoping to get the drop on Vivian, she tiptoed down the hallway and out into the main hangar of the facility.

* * *

C.S. 59 services the Pauper’s District, the seedy part of town that Tenenbaum and her daughter had taken up residence in long ago.

Oxygen was replenished in Ascension regularly by the various plantlife throughout the city. But to ensure not a bit of oxygen was wasted, massive carbon scrubber facilities are scattered throughout the city, constantly removing CO2 from circulation. They achieve this by running the air through machines which pulls the CO2 molecules out of the air, pumping the rest back out into the city.

(You think I’m making this up? They have this on the International Space Station!)

Anna couldn’t believe her eyes. Attached to the engines were several canisters of a green liquid, primed and ready to have their contents inserted into the machines.

“ADAM,” Anna muttered. She looked up.

There were numerous catwalks above the main engines. These contained the various controls for the carbon scrubber: to maintenance it you had to shut it down manually.

Up on one of these catwalks was Vivian Monroe, who was heading towards a small office.

Anna quietly sprinted up the staircase, stopping before she could reach the catwalk. She peeked over the top step. Vivian had now entered the office space. Her back was to the door.

This was Anna’s chance to get the drop on her. She got onto the catwalk and made her way to the office. As far as she could tell, Vivian was still not aware she was in the building.

She glided right up behind Vivian. Now she had a few options: 1) Keep up the charade and pretend she had no idea that Vivian had betrayed her. 2) Attack Vivian.

Deciding on Option 2, Anna whipped her gun out of her holster. But before she could realize what she was doing, she felt a sharp pain in her right palm, too late realizing her hand was still bandaged. She let out a yelp and dropped the gun.

As if on cue, Vivian dived downwards, grabbed the gun, and aimed it straight at Anna’s face.

Anna decided her next move would be Option 1. “Whoa, hold it there, tiger!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t recognize you!”

Vivian’s hands gripped the gun. Her expression was stone-cold, closer to her candid moment back in the shuttlecraft than the sweet personality she had when she was at the diner.

And then, just like that, the sweet personality returned, and Vivian lowered the gun. “You scared me for a minute there,” she said in a voice that Anna had at first thought was cute but now tugged at her patience. “I was worried you might be Fink.”

“Yeah.” Anna motioned back to the main hangar. “How about that circus, eh? Quite an operation going on.”

“Can’t imagine what Fink would want with all that ADAM,” Vivian replied. She turned back to the desk. “I was just looking at—“

Anna slammed her left fist into the back of Vivian’s head. The woman toppled over the desk, stunned, and dropping the gun in the process.

Anna held Vivian down with her own body. “There are limits to my patience, Vivian Monroe,” she whispered. “And you working with Fink all this time…well, let’s say you’ve really, _really_ tested it.”

“Yeah?” Vivian grunted. “Well you’re not alone on that.” She sent her fist up straight into Anna’s nose. The detective stumbled back, and before she knew it Vivian was once again aiming her own gun at her.

“Tactically,” Vivian said, her voice returning to a deeper, more serious tone. “You probably should’ve kept up the charade until you could actually stop me.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” Anna replied sarcastically. “Alec, any suggestions?”

Vivian adjusted the gun so it was aimed at Anna’s cuffs. “One wrong move and your wrist gets it.”

“My wrist has already ‘got it,’” Anna replied, wiggling her bandaged hand.

Vivian stared at the injury. “What happened?”

“You don’t care.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But my boss wants you in one piece for this part.”

“Your boss.” Anna laughed. “That was pretty bold, killing Fitzroy immediately after I had met with her. She must have been a horrible person to work for if you were willing to go through those lengths.”

Vivian ran her tongue through her teeth. She chuckled. “ _I_ never worked with Fitzroy. Until the day I cut her throat open, I had never even met her.”

From behind Anna a deep voice spoke up: “At ease, Esther.”

Vivian bit her lip before lowering the gun.

“Well, well, Detective Anna DeWitt. We meet in the flesh, with no deception to hide us.”

Anna was puzzled. That voice…it didn’t sound like Fink at all. But she knew it too well. And it didn’t take too much thought to match it with the one who had threatened her in both a phone call and back on Colony 12.

“You know, I never would have imagined it was you, Fontaine,” she said, turning around to face her new adversary.

A sly grin crept on Frank Fontaine’s face. “Why? Because among other things, I was fucking Tenenbaum on the side? Well, the German whore’s rotting in hell now.”

Anna’s eyes darted between Esther and Fontaine. “Such a callous regard for human life.”

“Allow me to introduce Esther Mailer,” Fontaine explained. “Chief of Security of Fontaine Synergy. Noted master of disguise, manipulation, and assassination.”

Anna's focus finally trained on Esther. "Well, I guess you just closed up the mystery that started this roller coaster."

Esther laughed. “She had the gall to plead for her life. Surprisingly weak, I must say. She didn’t put up much of a struggle.”

Anna took a step forward. Esther raised the gun once more.

“Such a callous regard for your own life,” Fontaine commented. “Esther, make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. I want to show her something.”

* * *

“All those canisters, hooked up to machines,” Anna commented. They were walking down the catwalk. “That’s ADAM, isn’t it?”

“Comstock didn’t know what he had on his hands,” Fontaine nodded. “ADAM, the miracle cure. It heals injuries, it cures sicknesses, it kills bacteria…”

“It turns a user into a murderous freak,” Anna added.

“Yes, an unfortunate side-effect. But it also leaves the user susceptible to mind-control.”

“So that’s what that _would you kindly_ business was about.”

“You know, the only reason I didn’t blow the lid on your impersonation of Dr. Langford was because I wanted to see the lengths you’d go to defend yourself.” Fontaine smirked. “Poor Meltzer.”

“Your mind-control guinea pig. That’s what all this is for.” Anna motioned to the machines. “Why you put him through that shit. You want to control the whole city with this stuff.”

Fontaine raised an eyebrow. He looked strangely amused. “The whole city? Well, I certainly would like to control the city eventually. ‘Chairman Fontaine,’ that would be a fun title. But no. I only want to _help_ the city.”

“Help it?”

“The Board of Improvement panicked after the Colony 12 incident,” Fontaine continued. “They listened to Reed Wahl’s doomsday predictions, thought the ADAM substance was too risky for public consumption. But Fink, Tenenbaum, and me…we knew just how much potential there was in this miracle cure.”

“So you started stockpiling the ADAM.”

“It was easy. No one would bother to go down to Colony 12 and see it hadn’t been quarantined, it was just abandoned. So we restarted the ADAM collecting business. It was during the tests in Fink Eugenics that we discovered the mind control properties. After that, it was a question of programming the phrase _would you kindly_ into the ADAM we gave those poor miners.”

“Yes, they made very good tools for your attempted murder,” Anna replied. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Fontaine’s expression was in a weird place where he looked both puzzled and privy to secret knowledge. “Don't be ridiculous, I would never murder the daughter of Booker DeWitt. Not after what he did for our city. No…that was more of a demonstration.”

“Of what?”

“Of what can happen when people are a little too nosy,” Fontaine replied darkly. “But I digress, only you could truly appreciate what I’m doing here.”

“And what is that?”

“That ADAM in those canisters.” Fontaine pointed to the machines. “It’s a very special form. When properly agitated, it turns into a gaseous state that these machines release back into the air. Completely harmless to the body: you simply breathe it in.”

“Putting the Pauper’s District under your control?”

“You keep acting like I’m trying to be a dictator. I don’t intend on harming the residents at all. I just want to make them a little more…docile.”

“Docile? You call what went on in Colony 12 docile?”

“Detective, you of all people know just how seedy this whole city really is. Despite constant surveillance and the marker infractions, the crime rate is at an all time high. There’s civil unrest. And most of that is coming from the poorer people, the ones who don’t have it off so well.”

“So that’s what you’re doing. You just want to quell the poor degenerates.”

Fontaine shrugged. “Like I said. I only wish to help Ascension. The crime rate would fall to zero. I, Frank Fontaine, will have single-handedly cleaned up Ascension.”

Anna thought about this. “…you’re gunning to be Comstock’s successor chairman of the Board of Improvement.”

“Perhaps it’s for the best. After all, I will have helped Ascension prosper.”

“Yeah, well, you seem to have acquired a death toll in the process. Tenenbaum knew about this place. She visited it before she died.”

“Yes. I thought I could convince her to join my cause.” Fontaine looked at the floor. “She struck me as the type who wanted to lower the crime rate, to help the citizens. But she panicked. Said it was a gross obstruction of free will. Didn’t think she’d keep her trap shut. Esther here spied on her, and soon as we knew she was planning to blow the whole operation…”

“You murdered her in an alleyway and made it look like a suicide.”

“It was easy to cast her as a very disturbed woman. After all, everyone at the lab knew about the two of us, no one was going to call me a liar.”

“Fink was your partner in crime. Does he know?”

Fontaine laughed. “That man is so clueless he doesn’t even know one of his carbon scrubber facilities hasn’t been maintenenced in weeks. He knows nothing, and it’s going to stay that way.”

“Well then why kill Fitzroy? She knew nothing about this.”

“Fitzroy was always a pawn,” Fontaine replied disdainfully. “She only stayed alive as long as she needed to. We knew she would want to be updated regularly on what you found. Esther here’s been impersonating Vivian Monroe since Fitzroy went into hiding. Course, they only spoke over the phone in the cellar, so Fitzroy had no way of knowing who she was really talking to. Anyway, Esther could pretend to be relaying your information to Fitzroy while actually relaying it to me.”

“I take it the real Vivian Monroe is no more?”

Esther smirked. “Choked her out with my own two hands. I like to think she enjoyed it.”

“Yes, you certainly take pleasure in your work,” Anna replied coldly. If the real Vivian Monroe had been anything like the fake personality Esther had put on, she felt a strong amount of pity for that poor girl. “I don’t know what prevents you both from the satisfaction of slitting my throat.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Fontaine asked. “But you misunderstand. I’m not going to kill you.”

“Really. That’s a pitiful move on your part, then. You’ve told me everything.”

“There you are again, casting me as the bad guy. Tenenbaum, Fitzroy, Brenda, Charlie, even the real Vivian…they all stood to prevent me from making this a better city. Think of it, DeWitt: no crimes, no murders, no rapes, no robberies. You wouldn’t have to investigate anything.”

“I would lose my job,” Anna replied plainly.

“And go back to college and finish the pre-med program you left behind. Ah, hadn’t thought about that, had you?” Fontaine purred when he saw Anna’s reaction to the phrase “pre-med.” “Your dad was on the streets to make sure crime did not go unpunished. You’ve taken up his vigil, but you never wanted this, detective. Walk away from this and never tell anyone what you’ve seen here. You will never have to worry about it again.”

Anna looked back at the carbon scrubber. “You know, Tenenbaum and her daughter lived in the Pauper’s District. I can’t imagine she liked the idea of you basically drugging her home.”

“Tenenbaum simply overreacted. This system was not quite ready when I showed it to her. The pumps have been gradually putting the ADAM into the air for weeks now. I’ve been increasing the dosage over time. But today…today I put it on full power.”

“Today of all days,” Anna mused. “What are the odds?” _Something tells me Reece Burlott/Sadie Cuternoll didn’t just pick a random day to give me this case._

“This is your last chance, DeWitt. I won’t make this offer again. Think of it as an early Christmas gift.”

Fontaine made a convincing argument. Anna had never wanted to be a detective. And her dad had not wanted her to be one, either. Booker DeWitt was all about his daughter doing whatever the hell she wanted, and she always wanted to be a doctor. But after his death…well, Booker always said someone had to be on the streets to make sure no immoral activity went unchecked.

“Fine,” Anna said.

Esther looked suspicious. “Fine?”

“Fine. See if I care.”

Fontaine smiled. “A wise choice, Detective. Esther will escort you out. No funny moves, or you get the knife.”

Anna looked at Esther. “Well? Lead the way, Esther.”

Esther gave a scowl before motioning with Anna’s gun to follow her. Anna watched as Fontaine walked over to the controls for the carbon scrubber.

“Move,” Esther barked, poking the barrel of the gun against Anna’s abdomen.

Anna sighed and started walking down the catwalk, Esther gripping tightly to her shoulder and pointing the gun straight into the side of her chest.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Anna heard a loud alarm bell. Looking up, she saw Fontaine at the controls, and the canisters of ADAM being pushed closer and closer to the main engine.

“I don’t know why Fontaine has so much faith in you,” Esther grunted. “And even then you put so much faith in others. You should’ve been an easy seduction.”

Anna eyed Esther warily. “You’re a terrible kisser, you know that?”

Esther scowled. “What I don’t understand is what twists and turns you went through in your mind to agree with him in the end.”

Two new words appeared on the data oculus screen, the most recent in a long line of instructions that had been playing since Anna said, “Alec, any suggestions?”

These words read, _OKAY, NOW._

Anna chuckled. “Well, it’s a bit like Columbo. People lower their guard and leave the answers open for me. How’d you get the black eye?”

Esther was confused. “I don’t have a black eye.”

Anna slammed her cuff into Esther’s side. An electrical discharge pulsed through her body, rattling her to the core. With a slam to the face from Anna’s fist, Esther toppled over onto the ground, dropping the gun.

Anna caught it in the air and pulled back the cocking handle. "You will in a few minutes," she shrugged.

Fontaine looked up, startled. Then he had to duck as Anna managed to fire off a shot. But as her right hand was basically useless, she had to use her less-steady left.

Anna looked down. Esther was sprawled on the ground, stunned. She let out a low moan and stared at the detective.

“Sorry, lover,” Anna shrugged. With another punch, Esther was out cold.

A bullet ricocheted off the railing. Anna looked up to see Fontaine had found a gun of his own and was trying to land a shot.

A few lines of words appeared on her data oculus.

 _PISTOL IS 9 MM_  
VERY POOR RANGE  
HEAD UP THE STAIRS WHILE FIRING.

Anna fired off another shot, and Fontaine quickly ducked behind the controls once more. Seeing her chance, Anna raced up the stairs and onto the catwalk.

Fontaine emerged from the controls, once again trying to fell his opponent. But another warning shot form Anna forced him to retreat. Anna hid behind a pillar, in case he chose an inopportune moment to re-emerge.

“I’ve heard you’re an excellent shooter, detective!” Fontaine taunted. “But I can’t imagine you could land an easy hit with that hand injury!”

Anna looked at her hand. He was right. If she expected to incapacitate him, her gun was useless. And he was too far away for her to use her knock-out pulse beacon, the one she had used on Dr. Langford.

There was a loud noise. Anna looked up to see Fontaine was speeding up the ADAM insertion process.

One of the large ADAM canisters was directly above her position. It was risky, but…

She raised her gun and fired a shot directly into the canister. The bullet shattered the glass tube, sending gallons of pure ADAM directly towards Anna, who managed to move away before the glass shards could hit her.

 **“NO!”** Fontaine screamed.

Anna unwrapped her bandage and held it under a small stream of ADAM pouring out from the remains of the canister. Immediately her wound healed and she felt the pain go away.

Another shot.

“Ya think just one broken canister will stop me?!” Fontaine shouted. “I’ve got dozens more!”

Anna’s patience wore thin. She moved around the pillar and fired three shots using her healed right hand. This time, one of them actually hit her target. Fontaine grabbed at his arm in pain.

Anna saw her chance and charged straight into him, knocking his gun over the side of the catwalk. Fontaine, despite his pain, managed to push her off of him and make a grab for the control panel. Anna raised her gun to try to stop him, but he managed to knock it out of her hands.

“So it’s just us, then!” he breathed. “Fine! I can take on a—“

Anna grabbed at Fontaine’s shoulders and with a burst of strength sent him tumbling over the side of the railing and down to the ground below.

The fight had knocked the wind right out of her. Taking a moment to gather her wits, she made her way to the control panel.

Fontaine had already released some of the ADAM into the system. She had two options: Option 1 was to run back down to the main floor and find the emergency shutdown. Option 2 was to use her gun to break all the canisters and empty out the ADAM, at the expense of most of her ammunition.

A shot from below. Fontaine was still alive, and he had managed to retrieve his gun.

Anna grabbed her own gun and fired several shots down below, sending the still-injured Fontaine stumbling away. His range was terrible, but she didn’t want to be cornered by him down on the main floor.

She looked up. 19 canisters of ADAM: she needed to make every bullet count.

With a deep breath, she aimed and fired shot after shot at each canister, watching as they shattered and spilled the ADAM onto the floor.

The gun shuddered in her hands. She was not used to firing it this much. The last person to use bullet after bullet was Booker DeWitt, who was known to take matters into his own hands when it came to gangs.

The gun clicked. Apparently there were no more bullets. And there was one canister of ADAM left. It was already pumping the substance directly into the main engine.

With no other option, Anna gripped the gun by the barrel and threw it as hard as she could directly at the last canister. The gun spun through the air before colliding with the glass, and then harmlessly bouncing off.

"Really?" Anna groaned, staring at the unharmed ADAM canister.

The gun tumbled through the air before hitting the floor. As it slammed against the concrete, there was a slight clicking noise and a single bullet fired out of the barrel and directly into the canister above, shattering the glass and spilling ADAM out onto the ground.

It was over. Fontaine’s dreams of quelling the invalids of Ascension were dead.

"Huh." Anna looked over the ledge at her gun, which lay in a puddle of ADAM far below. "I guess that last shell jammed."

A bullet zipped past Anna’s face and into the ceiling above. Suddenly it occurred to her it may not have been the best idea to dump Fontaine’s “miracle cure” directly onto his injured person.

“YOU GOT NO WEAPON, DETECTIVE!” Fontaine shouted. His voice was strained, an immeasurable anger Anna had never heard before. “HOW YA GONNA FACE ME NOW?!”

“Fuck,” Anna muttered. Looking around, she saw a door leading into the staircase up to the roof. Not liking what was waiting for her down below, she ran away from the catwalk and into the stairwell.

“Alec, get Sullivan on the line,” she said as she ran up the stairs.

 _“Dialing…”_ Alec said with some urgency.

_“Anna? Where did you go—?”_

“No time, Chief! We have an active shooter situation at Carbon Scrubber 59!”

_“…what did you do this time?”_

Something whizzed by Anna’s face and hit the concrete wall next to her. Anna looked down to see Fontaine had made it into the staircase.

_“Wait, was that a—“_

“JUST GET THE POLICE HERE!”

“The police will do you no good, Detective!” Fontaine called.

 _The police are a better option than any that are available to me now._ Anna sprinted up the stairs, ignoring Fontaine’s taunts from below.

* * *

The roof of CS 59 overlooked the entire Pauper’s District. It was a 20-story drop to the ground, and the morning sun, or rather the city’s virtual facsimile of the sun, was rising in the distance.

Red and blue interchanging lights flashed in the street. Sullivan had pulled out all the stops. It was a question of them getting to the building before Fontaine got to her.

“Alec, I’m open to suggestions,” Anna said.

_“Right now you’re going to have to hide. Use the air condi—“_

The glass on data oculus shattered and Alec went silent. Startled, Anna felt around to find a bullet lodged directly into the frame, mere inches from her right temple. Turning around, she saw Fontaine standing there with his gun raised, apparently shocked that he had failed to kill her. Then he recovered, and Anna dove out of the way into the rows of air conditioners on the roof.

Fontaine stopped firing. “It’s useless, DeWitt!” he called out. “You may have shot out my ADAM, but you’re not bulletproof!”

Anna took off her data oculus. “Alec?” she whispered. “Alec, are you there?”

No response. She had no idea if the bullet had damaged the central processor or it had just cut off the voice interface. Either way, Alec had nothing more to say. Without him, she had no access to her cuffs, and no tactical strategies to defeat Fontaine. Anna was flying blind.

She looked up. Fontaine’s back was turned. Deciding to use a diversionary tactic, she found a pen in her coat and threw it to the set of air conditioners at the other end of the roof.

The diversion worked. Fontaine turned around and adjusted his aim. It was at that point Anna realized the full extent of his injuries.

The ADAM, rather than fixing the broken bones, had merely fused them back together, in some places at terrible angles, creating an image not unlike the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The glass from the canisters had embedded themselves in his face, with the ADAM causing them to fuse directly into his skin. Fontaine limped forward, clearly in severe pain.

“You’re a persistent girl, detective!” he shouted. “You could’ve walked away from this madness, but I guess that’s not the way you DeWitts handle it!”

“You don’t know anything about us!” Anna shouted back. The environmental controls for the city created a natural wind at high altitudes, which she severely hoped would make it harder for Fontaine to figure out where she was.

“I know enough! Booker DeWitt was one angry son of a bitch. He looked in the wrong places…and that got him killed.”

Anna was puzzled. “Booker DeWitt died in a car accident!”

“Car accident,” Fontaine chuckled. “Yeah, you’d like to think that, huh?” He fired off several shots. Anna, realizing the danger, dashed from her hiding place and ducked behind another air conditioner.

“You’ve got people on the Board of Improvement watching ya,” Fontaine continued. “Don’t think they haven’t noticed your exploits. They don’t want to do to you like they did your father or Fitzroy.”

“You killed Fitzroy, you snotty bastard!” Anna shouted back.

“Well maybe I did Fitzroy a favor, detective! She had her demons, I simply rendered them null and void.”

“You’re a monster!”

“I’m just a businessman, Detective! And people in my way are bad for business!”

Anna knew she could not keep up this game of cat and mouse for long.

“I know you, Detective! Everyone you’ve ever loved is dead and gone! So why don’t you sit back and let judgement day come upon you?”

Anna did not answer. She felt around her pockets, hoping to find a sufficient weapon to ambush Fontaine with.

“I could keep this up all day, DeWitt! Or maybe I can get you another way. How about with Tenenbaum’s daughter?”

Anna froze. _Sally…_

“Yeah, that’s got you, huh? Who’s the only person in the world Anna DeWitt really cares about? What would happen if I did something to her?”

Silence. Anna felt her blood boil.

“I know where she is, Detective! You think I’m powerless, alone with you on a rooftop? Just one phone call from me and she’s gone! And you’ll be up here, running until you can longer hide. You’ll be—“

At that point Anna did not care whatever Fontaine said. She jumped out of her hiding place and ran straight at the madman, who raised his gun once he saw her.

One shot. Bullet whizzed past her head.

Another shot. Bullet barely missed her hand.

Another shot. This one hit her shoulder. Anna felt the pain searing through her, but she clenched her jaw and slammed right into Fontaine’s stomach, pushing him backwards.

But she would not stop there. Clutching at his sides, she pushed him further and further, her feet connecting with the ground and then just as quickly disconnecting.

And then there was no more ground to connect with.

She finally let go of Fontaine. He was screaming, a scream that would probably be the last thing he ever did in his life.

As for Anna, well, she couldn’t be bothered. As far as she was concerned, she was falling from the top of a 20-story building, and she would hit the ground with a loud _splat_. Or maybe a _crunch_. She would settle for a _sprunch_.

And that was when she noticed something. Standing at the edge of the roof were a man and a woman with red hair. The man was clad in a white tuxedo with a blue rose pinned to his lapel. The woman was clad in a black evening gown, her ginger hair held up by a green set of hair sticks. They both stared at Anna, then each raised one arm.

Anna did not see what they did next, as her body turned and she saw the ground coming closer and closer towards her. Several police officers were already at the scene, staring at the sight in horror.

* * *

There was a loud rumbling noise. A blinding white light pierced Anna’s vision, soon replaced by the image of a clear blue sky.

At first, Anna thought she had died and was being sent into heaven, but then she realized she was literally flying upward into the air. Startled, she looked down.

Nestled in a little part of the clouds was what looked like a city. Late 19th/early 20th, she guessed. Buildings were floating in the air, clock towers, restaurants. In the distance was a winged statue, and flying around it was what appeared to be large leather bird.

More rumbling. Anna changed her line of vision in time to see an airship flying by. The man and the woman were standing in the cockpit, staring at her. They both raised their hands…

* * *

Anna hit the ground with a loud _whump_. Immediately feeling pain, she let out a scream.

“DETECTIVE!”

Anna looked up. Running towards her was Detective Sullivan, along with a whole group of police officers.

“Anna! Are you hurt?!”

The detective felt herself. She was dazed, but nothing felt broken. “I’m, uh…I’m fine.”

Sullivan stared at Anna’s shoulder. The detective suddenly became aware of a large patch of blood soaking her shirt: the bullet wound from Fontaine’s gun.

“Dammit,” she groaned. “Can uh…someone get me to a doctor?”

Two officers pulled her up from the ground. Anna suddenly realized she was on the roof again.

“We heard someone went over the edge,” Sullivan explained. “What happened?”

Anna reached into her pocket and pulled out the broken data oculus. “I’ve got audio and video from my little meeting with the late great Frank Fontaine, all live-streamed and saved to my computer back in my office. A full confession to the murders of Brigid Tenenbaum, Daisy Fitzroy, Vivian Monroe, Brenda Stephanson and…” she trailed off. What was Charlie’s last name? “…uh, and Charlie.”

Sullivan took the oculus and stared at Anna. “He killed _all_ of them?”

“Yeah.”

“How the hell are you still alive?”

Anna looked back at the edge of the roof. The man and the woman with the red hair were nowhere in sight.

She took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”


	16. Interrogation

The next few days were a little strange.

The doctors were able to remove the bullet in her shoulder, though as a result Anna had to stay at the hospital for two nights.

The Ascension Law Enforcement Console, or A.L.E.C., had made it out of the encounter with Fontaine operational, and his audio and video recordings were given to the police. The full extent of what happened on Colony 12 was not released to the public. As far as they were concerned, Fontaine had murdered Tenenbaum, Fitzroy, Brenda, and Charlie in an attempt to hide a dangerous drug he was planning to release to the public.

Mark Meltzer was freed from his temporary prison in Fink Eugenics, and after extensive treatments, was finally reunited with his wife and daughter.

Jeremiah Fink was arrested on charges of conspiracy, and earned his first three marker infractions. He was temporarily suspended from his position on the Board of Improvement.

Anna, despite her actions saving the city, received two marker infractions for trespassing on government property. So much for the big damn hero.

The decomposing body of Vivian Monroe was discovered in room A36 of Fink Eugenics Downtown.

Esther Mailer disappeared from CS 59, and was listed as a fugitive of the law.

Fontaine Synergy was merged with Fink Corporation in a buyout worth over 10 billion dollars.

On December 24, 2369, Anna DeWitt was called before the Board of Improvement to deliver firsthand the information behind Frank Fontaine’s actions.

* * *

**Wednesday, December 24, 2369, 3:45 PM  
Room 251, Ascension City Hall**

Anna had expected to be interviewed in the Hall of Enlightenment, a gigantic room where the Board of Improvement sat in tall desks that made those on the floor feel very insignificant.

Instead, she found herself in a small, carpeted room with maroon curtains, a normal-sized desk, and a large comfy chair, which she suspected she was supposed to sit in. But she wasn’t sure she was supposed to be in this room to begin with, so she stayed standing.

The door opened, and in walked a tall man with an oily mustache and a brown jacket. “Good afternoon, Detective DeWitt,” he said as he walked to the other side of the desk. “Have a seat.”

Anna sat down in the comfy chair. “How do you do, Mr. Ryan, sir?” She looked around. “Uh…pardon my asking, but I was led to believe I was going to meet the entire Board of Improvement…”

Andrew Ryan dropped his briefcase onto the desk. “Well, let’s see. You pushed Fontaine off the top of a building, so he can’t make it. Fink has been suspended for disciplinary action, so he will take his leave for the next few months. Lamb is stuck in traffic, and probably will not make it in time for this meeting.”

“What about Comstock?”

Ryan opened up the briefcase. “He excused himself from this meeting. Apparently there was a family matter.”

Anna swallowed nervously.

“Now, if you don’t mind…” Andrew Ryan pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. “Tell me everything.”

Anna told Ryan what she figured he needed to know. She skipped the parts with the masked antler-guy, Fontaine’s claims that the Board of Improvement was behind the death of Booker DeWitt, and everything involving Reece Burlott/Sadie Cuternoll. The first two were because she wasn’t about to accuse the Board of Improvement of murder or kidnapping. That last part was not only because she didn’t think Andrew Ryan would believe her, but also because she herself didn’t quite understand it. Though, after what had happened on the roof, she had a few ideas.

When she finished, Andrew Ryan was silent. He made a few marks on the paper.

“I want you to understand something, Detective,” he said after a while. “The public can never know what happened on Colony 12. Do you know why?”

Anna blinked. “Chaos, demonstrations, calls for your resignations…yeah, I know why.”

Ryan smiled in a somewhat unfriendly way. “When you leave the building in a few minutes, you will see a huge crowd of reporters. Before you talk to them, I hope you realize that we hid the Colony 12 incident from the public because we were trying to spare the families of the miners the truth of their fates.”

That was one way of putting it. Another way was saying the Board was embarrassed to admit they had used the poor miners as test subjects for a failed experiment.

“Of course, Mr. Ryan,” Anna declared.

“Good.” Ryan made a few more marks on his paper.

There was a long silence.

“Will that be all?” Anna asked nervously.

Ryan looked up. “Well, you tell me, Detective. You have told me _everything_ , I’m sure?”

Anna did not like Ryan’s tone of voice. “Everything,” she lied.

“Are you positive?”

Anna gritted her teeth. “I'd bet my life on it, Mr. Ryan sir.”

Andrew Ryan looked a bit disappointed. “Well then, I suppose that will be all. You may go.”

Anna awkwardly looked around before getting up and heading for the door.

“And Detective?”

Anna stopped. “Yes?”

“I want to personally thank you for ending Fontaine’s operation before it could move beyond infancy.”

Anna was taken aback. “You’re…you’re welcome, Mr. Ryan sir.”

“He misunderstood Ascension’s philosophy, and it cost him dearly.” Ryan sighed. “After all…a man chooses, a slave obeys.”

Anna wondered why she had the sudden image of a golf club slamming into a skull flashing through her mind. But she wasn’t about to ask Andrew Ryan about it.

* * *

The rabble of the crowd of reporters on the steps of City Hall was deafening. Lights flashed as Anna walked out of the building, escorted by a pair of uniformed officers.

_“Detective DeWitt! How did you survive?”_

_“Detective DeWitt! Why did you take the case?”_

_“Are you willing to divulge the details of your investigation?_

Anna stopped. “I only have this to say,” she said out loud. “Ascension has not only lost one of its greatest scientists and one of its greatest journalists, it has lost two of its citizens, whose actions helped me bring this case to a fitting conclusion. What I did, what I discovered, none of it matters…in the end, a killer’s spree was ended.”

More questions. _“Does Esther Mailer pose a threat to the city of Ascension?”_

"Ms. Mailer will be dealt with by the proper authorities." Fat chance. She had a few things in mind for tracking down that little traitor. "She can't go far, we are literally in a floating canister tumbling helpless through space."

Some laughter. _"Do you plan on going after her yourself?"_

"No, that's not on my agenda." Actually, it was the second thing on her agenda. The first thing was to clean out the fridge because the milk she'd bought weeks ago had spoiled.

_“That seems a shift in your behavior. Did you consider it your duty to deal with Mr. Fontaine with your own means?”_

Anna opened her mouth to state some more crap about “end justifying the means” but she trailed off.

A limo was pulling up towards the front steps. The reporters, noticing Anna’s shift in attention, turned, and immediately went running for the car.

“That’s one way to lose the hawks,” one of the officers commented.

Anna watched the crowd of reporters. “Yeah.”

Someone was cutting through the crowd, and the reporters were keeping their distance like whoever it was had a shield on.

From out of the crowd of reporters burst Sofia Lamb, a spectacled blond British lady with a serious look on her face. She made eye contact with Anna and marched right up to her, the crowd of reporters following her every move.

“Detective,” she said. “You’ve done a great service to our city. Ascension is a safer place with you on the streets.” There was something unpleasant about her voice, a sort of faux air that implied that Lamb was doing this for the benefit of the reporters, and was telling Anna to do the same.

“Th-thank you, Dr. Lamb,” Anna replied. “And congratulations on your new book. A friend of mine recommended it to me.” This wasn’t entirely true, but Hiro would probably love telling his customers he was the friend.

Lamb smiled. Again, there was something fake about it. “Well, clearly your friend has good taste in reading.”

_Oh yeah, Hiro is definitely gonna be bragging about this._

Sofia looked behind her. “Come along, Eleanor.”

Anna turned and immediately made eye contact with a young woman, about her age, wearing a white button down shirt, a red skirt, and stockings. Her dark hair was tied in a bun, similar to Lamb’s hairstyle.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then the other woman quickly started following Lamb, though not without occasionally looking back at Anna. Within five minutes, neither Anna nor Eleanor remembered the encounter.

* * *

Anna walked down the hallway towards her office. She needed a break. Maybe a glass of whiskey and a long nap. She would have settled for a long argument with Alec about the meaning of life, but the police were still going through his files from the case. She would not be seeing him again until after New Years.

Her phone beeped. Puzzled, she pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the screen.

A notification: apparently $400,000 had just been wired into her bank account.

“Strange,” she muttered. She walked up to her office door and pressed her thumb against the fingerprint reader.

The panel beeped an odd tune, and the door slid open.

“Merry Christmas.”

 _ **“YEAAAAGH!”**_ Anna jumped right back out into the hallway, startled.

Reece Burlott and Sadie Cuternolll stood in the center of the office. But their attire was completely different: rather than their fancy clothes, they both donned matching tan outfits, with the same color and fabric jackets, a brown vest, and a green tie. Reece had one arm behind his back, and the other held in front of his stomach. Sadie was grasping both hands in front of her.

“Is that any way to greet us?” Reece asked.

Anna walked back into the room. “What, do you expect me to be grateful?” she asked, scratching her nose with disdain.

Sadie snorted. “Gratitude was never something Booker showed us. Why should you?”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Do you suppose she remembers?” Sadie asked Reece.

“I suspect she has,” Reece replied. “Note the lack of static or blood around her face.”

Anna took off her hat and hung it on the hook by the door. She removed her coat and draped it over the back of the couch. Then she took a few steps until she was standing right in front of the two people in her office.

“Well then…what can I do for you, Robert and Rosalind Lutece?”


	17. The Infinity

“So you _do_ remember,” Rosalind chuckled.

Anna raised a finger, placing it directly in front of Rosalind’s nose. “Only the highlights, Madame Lutece. Your tear stunt back on the roof was enough. A city in the sky, a Sea of Doors, Songbird…and let’s just say it’s probably for the best that that’s all I remember.” She walked around the Lutece Twins and propped herself down in her desk chair. “Props to you, by the way,” she added. “’Sadie Cuternoll’ and ‘Reece Burlott’; rearrange the letters…”

“We weren’t sure you would pick up on that,” Robert commented. “Imagine if you had tried rearranging the letters in our names for fun. This case would have been solved in seconds.”

Anna propped her feet up on the desk. “So, what is this place? Purgatory? Hell? My imagination?”

“Don’t be daft. This world is as real as Columbia and Rapture were. Just another city in an impossible place, run by men and women who don’t know any better.”

“Well if this is its own city, then why am I here?”

“I believe you’re what we’d call ‘a shard.’”

“A shard of what?”

“You. Or rather, the original you. The quantum instability that was Elizabeth Comstock.”

Anna eyed the bottle of scotch still on her desk. She thought about taking a swig from it, but she figured she needed to stay sober for the time being. “The Little Sister…Sally…”

“You gave up your abilities for the chance to rescue a little girl,” Robert noted. “Like a broken window, your pieces went everywhere. Every universe gained their own Elizabeth in her own circumstances and own memories.”

“So why do I have memories from when other me went back to Rapture?”

This time, neither person answered. They just stared at Anna sympathetically.

"Ha. Talkative when you want to be cryptic, silent when I actually want answers." Anna reached into her drawer and pulled out the two photos given to her by the Lutece Twins: the bird and the cage pendants. “Here’s what I don’t get,” she said slowly. “I was living a perfectly happy life here.”

Robert laughed. “’Happy.’”

“Yeah, I was _happy_. Solving cases, getting drunk, occasionally going home with the most attractive person in the bar. It’s a pointless life, sure, but I’ve never complained. I just shit around and pay taxes and overcharge my clients, which, by the way, is the furthest I could possibly get from being a clairvoyant quantum instability with an obsession with killing every variation of Zachary Hale Comstock. I didn’t need to know about my other lives, about how I drowned Booker DeWitt in a pond, how I nearly had a lobotomy.”

“What’s your point?”

 _“Why are you two even here?”_ The question cut through the room like the slash of a sword.

The Lutece Twins did not answer. Their signature condescending attitude could not be detected.

Anna reached into her holster and pulled out her gun.

No reaction.

She checked the cylinder. A few bullets. She’d made sure to stop by the gun shop to pick up some more ammunition.

Still no reaction.

She raised the barrel to her right temple.

Finally, Rosalind let out an annoyed sigh. “We would have been glad to leave you alone in this world.”

“But the truth is,” Robert continued. “A pressing matter has come up.”

“Don’t tell me.” Anna lowered the gun. “The city’s about to fall to shit, just like Rapture and Columbia.”

“That remains to be seen,” Rosalind replied. “But in anticipation of such an event, we wanted you to remember what you could of the other worlds.”

“Why?”

“So you can prevent your city from suffering the same fate.”

Anna stared at the Lutece Twins. “Is that why you hired me for the Tenenbaum case? Because you knew the events would jog my memory?”

“Something like that.”

Anna tapped the side of her head. “I suppose you have something to do with my blue velvet dreams.”

“In a sense,” Robert shrugged. “Like what happened when you went back to Rapture. Your mind is remembering things you once saw in this world, things you can’t quite recall.”

Anna squinted. “Forgive me for not believing at any point during this investigation I was pressed into a barber’s chair and nearly got my throat slit.”

Rosalind smirked. “It’s a _manifestation_ of your memories, really they’re quite metaphorical. I imagine you haven’t seen the last of them, they could prove useful in future cases.”

“Great. I’ll never sleep again.” Anna leaned back in her chair. “So…what do you expect me to do now?”

“Now? Now, you do nothing. You’ve made your mark on Ascension. You’re bound to start fielding more calls for casework.”

“You can continue your normal life in Ascension. You are not Elizabeth Comstock. You are Detective Anna DeWitt.”

“Our only piece of advice is this: _Beware The City Upon A Hill.”_

“The _what?_ ” Anna asked.

There was a knock at the door.

“The Little Sister’s on her way,” Rosalind said. She snapped her finger, and the Lutece Twins disappeared.

* * *

For a moment Anna could only stare at the spot on the ground where the Lutece Twins had once stood. This was a lot to take in.

There was another knock at the door. _“Detective? Detective?”_

Normally Alec would activate the intercom, but as he was still in police custody, Anna had to turn it on manually. “We’re closed.”

_“Anna, it’s Sally!”_

_Sally?_ Anna got out of her chair and went right up to the door.

No sooner had she unlocked and opened it than Sally pushed her way into the office, carrying a large envelope. “You need to see this. Also, do you have any food?”

Anna walked to her refrigerator, found an apple that hadn’t gotten moldy, and tossed it to Sally. “You know, after solving the mystery of your mother’s death, I would’ve expected you to visit me sooner.”

“The hospital wouldn’t let me see you,” Sally said passively. “They didn’t know we were family.”

Anna stared at her. “Excuse me?”

Sally held up the envelope. “This was in the safe, you know, the one with the fake dial. I had to pull a few strings to get these confirmed. But they’re real.”

Puzzled, Anna took the envelope and opened it. Inside were two small sheets of paper. Printed on the first one were the words THIS CERTIFIES THAT ELIZABETH DRAPER COMSTOCK, BORN ON MARCH 26 2346 IN THE CITY OF ASCENSION. BORN TO ANNABELLE WATSON AND ZACHARY HALE COMSTOCK.

She stared at Sally. “Is this…?”

“Your birth certificate.” Sally looked excited. “Tenenbaum must’ve held onto it after she gave you away. Look at the second one.”

The second sheet was another birth certificate. Only this one…

“’Sarah Levine Comstock’,” Anna read. “’Born on November 12 2350 in the city of Ascension. Born to…’” She looked up at Sally. “Annabelle Watson and Zachary Hale Comstock?”

Sally grinned. “Annabelle Watson died in childbirth…but she didn’t miscarry.”

Anna gripped the birth certificates. She remembered the last thing Rosalind had said to her: _The Little Sister’s on her way._

She turned to Sally. An intense feeling of joy ran through her body. She opened her arms and pulled her newly-discovered sister into a hug.

It was as though Anna and Sally had known each other for their entire life.

“We should celebrate,” Sally suggested, not letting go.

“Definitely.”

“What do you do when you celebrate? Drink scotch?”

“Actually, I only drink scotch when I’m unbearably depressed. I celebrate by eating waffles.”

“I love waffles.”

“I know a diner a few blocks away, the Watched Clock. Best waffles in the city.”

“I’m down.”

“Let’s go.”

They quickly separated and headed for the door.

“Oh, and Anna?”

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“…and to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more. And after that, well, you will just have to wait and see.


	18. Epilogue

**Date: ??? Time: ???  
Location: ???**

The room is nothing more than a badly-lit tomb. Concrete walls with no windows encapsulate its contents. At the center is a rusty metal table, complimented with two chairs sitting opposite each other. A single light hangs from the ceiling, its glow reflecting brightly off the metal surface of the table.

At the edge of the room is a woman, dressed in a dark grey jumpsuit. She is packing a large duffel bag. Apparently she is trying to escape.

The door opens. She freezes. She instinctively reaches for a weapon in her bag.

There is a distinct _click_. “Don’t even think about it,” a familiar voice says.

She turns around. “You!” she exclaims.

* * *

Anna DeWitt smiled, her pistol still aimed at Esther Mailer. “Me.”

“How’d you find me here?” Esther growled.

“It took a lot of asking around,” Anna replied, casually walking up to Esther. “Various sightings, old girlfriends, old boyfriends, old non-binary partners, security footage…but, in the end, it made sense that you would choose a hideout like the subway tunnels. After all, you did strike me as a sort of mole person.”

“Is this revenge?” Esther asked.

Anna held up a set of handcuffs. “You could call it that. Give me your arm.”

Esther reluctantly held up her arm. Anna locked the handcuff around her wrist, and placed the other end of it over a pipe directly above Esther’s head.

“Esther Mailer, here are a list of your crimes. You used your own two hands to strangle Vivian Monroe to death. You used your pocketknife to ruthlessly murder Brigid Tenenbaum. On top of that, you tricked me into believing you had never used your pocketknife before, meaning you had me hold the very weapon that killed my surrogate mother. That same pocketknife, apparently, was used to kill Daisy Fitzroy, Brenda Stephanson, and Charlie…Charlie, uh…Charlie Whatsit.”

Esther laughed. “Sugar, I’ve committed a lot of crimes. And if I get out of here, I’m probably going to commit more.”

“I’m not finished. You were a complete waste of my time. And if there’s anything I hate more than losing the people I aim to protect, it’s when my time is wasted.”

Anna picked up Esther’s bag and tossed it out the door. Then she reached into her coat and pulled out a tape recorder.

“What’s this?” Esther asked.

Anna handed Esther the tape recorder. “I keep track of all my cases through audio recordings. I’m a stickler for detail, just to be sure I remember everything I put myself through to get the job done. You…you’re gonna listen to this entire recording and think about how you wasted my time.” She stepped back.

“Why should I care what I put you through?” Esther asked defiantly.

“Because you’re gonna be the only other person in this entire city who knows the truth about me,” Anna smiled. “I’d take that as a badge of honor.”

“That’s it?” Esther laughed. “You’re just gonna play a recording for me?”

Anna pursed her lips. “No,” she said. She held up the gun. “I’ll also leave you with this. Only one bullet in the barrel.” She placed it on the table. “You get to decide what to do with this. Waste it on your escape…or waste it on your life.” She turned around and headed for the door.

Esther stared in her direction. “You expect me to get to that gun while I’m attached to _this_?” She rattled the cuffs. “I’m better off starving to death!”

Anna looked behind her. “Oh, don’t worry about that. You just gotta tug at them, they come right off.” And with that, she slammed the door behind her.

There was a long silence.

Esther looked at the cuffs. With a slight jerk of her hand, they broke off easily.

She looked around. Complete silence.

The only things in this room were herself, a tape recorder, and a gun.

* * *

She reaches forward and stretches out a single finger. Her nails are a bright red color, freshly done. She lowers the finger and pushes down on the rewind button. The cassette in the deck whirs as it turns back, before finally making a heavy noise, indicating it has reached the end of available tape. The woman lifts her finger up, stopping the tape from rewinding.

She moves her hand slightly to the left, positioning her finger directly above the play button. A joint moves: she is about to play this recording. But she hesitates. Does she really want to hear what is on the tape?

Her moment of indecision gives way to impulse as she firmly presses her finger down on the button.

For a moment, there is no sound save for the tape playing.

She moves her hand to the right, positioning her finger directly above the stop button. A joint moves: she is about to stop this recording. But she hesitates.

Before she can even consider her next action, a voice emerges from the tape. She immediately lowers her hand. But she cannot listen to whatever the voice is saying. Everything is nonsense to her. She is forever trapped in this prison. There is only one way out.

The woman on the recording hesitates. She is unsure how to continue.

The woman listening to the recording, however, is completely sure of how to continue. She raises a pistol to her head, presses it against her right temple, and pulls down the hammer. Her index finger curls around the trigger.

But then she hesitates.

In her moment of indecision, she hears something. Startled, she looks up.

Someone is knocking on the door.


End file.
